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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160696">At the Worlds End</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/philups/pseuds/philups'>philups</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal, Anger, Angst, Armie Divorced, Armie Timothee Oliver, Armie and Oliver end up vibing, Armie and Oliver meet, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Character Death, Drama &amp; Romance, Jealousy, M/M, Oliver too understanding, Pining, Reference to Liz, Slow Burn, Threesome, Throuple, Timothee not over Armie, bareback</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:42:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/philups/pseuds/philups</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>timothée and oliver are developing a relationship. armie is on the next plane to new york after his divorce from liz. new york goes from shelter-in-place to complete lockdown. the epidemic becoming far more threatening than anyone could have imagined.<br/>how do the three of them along with those closest to them deal with their problem at the worlds end?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Oliver Jackson-Cohen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nightmare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I look down to battered hands, annoying hangnails on almost every finger. <br/><em>When did I lose interest in personal care?</em><br/><em>When did I become that person who picked at their nails was the better question?</em></p><p><br/>All of this a sudden realization as I continue to pick at the intrusive fucker on my thumb. The one out of them all, that alway seemed to have my undivided attention longer than necessary. <br/>The one who had been picked raw at this point. Inflamed and annoyed, just like my current mood.</p><p><br/>I obsess over my hands further, ridiculing myself for the dirt underneath my nails. The busted cuticles. The calloused palms rubbing against dry knuckles. <em>All the crap I have in my bathroom and my hands look like I’ve been picking through glass?! <br/></em>It was during all this self discovery when it suddenly hit me, unexpectedly. Light at first and then all at once. As it always does ...</p><p>The pain, is unfathomable. Imagine being branded like cattle. A needle that was over a flame that is now being driven under your nails.</p><p><br/>I yank my hand back as if it were exposed to an open flame.<br/>The burn from my finger tips, traveling past my wrist and up my arm, had nearly keeled me over. <em>This is a heart attack! I am having a heart attack. <br/></em>I was sure of it.<br/>Frantically I turn my hands from side to side hoping to find the reason for this sudden stab.<br/><em>Stab was accurate because discomfort would have been an understatement.</em></p><p>My eyes cast on that little spec of skin lifting off my thumb and like a force of habit, I begin to pick at it.<br/>I pull the skin back, slowly at first, wincing at the sight of red muscle, flesh, and bone. As if it were on display for purchase at your local butcher. My pace quickening, stripping more and more of myself off as far back as my wrist. It all coming off like melted butter. Blood free flowing. The inner workings of my hand fully exposed to cold air and for a split second I find relief.</p><p>It was as if someone had possessed my body when the need became primal. And in a way, I found myself enjoying it.<br/>Tearing into my hand, the sound of my nails against the wetness, the scraping against bone, the pulling the yanking of vital bits and pieces drowning out all other noise.<br/>My vision a blur with warm crimson streaming down my elbow. The feeling of my toes squishing against my blood and stepping in chunks of myself made my stomach growl ... <em>with hunger?</em> My hand now completely raw, knuckles and muscle exposed, looking onto the floor assessing what what missing from my hand to what I had ripped out which now lay strewn at my bare feet. <br/><br/>Pieces of myself falling from the tips of my fingers onto bloodied tile. My finger nails, the ones still intact blackened and chipped ... jagged with god knows what lodged underneath them. Once covered in just dirt were now covered with bits and pieces of me.</p><p>It’s then I notice my wrist, the paling of skin. The veins underneath a stark contrast. The rotting of my flesh as it travels up my forearm, onto my shoulder, my exposed chest, into my pubes, down my thighs to my sickly looking legs...</p><p>“Armie?” My voice sounded weak and raspy. My lips dried and cracked as I repeat his name. The taste of blood on my tongue as I lick my lips to moisten them. The ground underneath my feet gone as my vision finally goes black.</p><p>“Timmy!” The panic in your voice a distant sound.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I open my eyes finally and set them upon the mess that is my floor. I sift through the books with my big toe, coming across the one thing that proves to me that what we had what he was to me was real. The one thing he didn’t take with him, that he never bothered to ask for its return. It was one of his favorites. The dog eared pages where he could return to read his favorite passage. The tattered cover from being taken everywhere with him. The binding nearly falling apart. His scribbles.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Thrashing around from my nightmare, I must’ve knocked over the stack of books off my nightstand in my sleep. Because the sudden crash of them onto the wooden floor jolted me out of my less than perfect nights sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">I was tense, my balled up fist aching. Looking down </span>at my hands, relieved that everything was intact.<br/>
”Fuck” Whispering to myself as I plopped back down onto my sweat covered pillow. Taking the pillow by the corner I chucked it to the ground. My annoyance made worse by my struggle to get myself free from my twisted sheets. Throwing back the thick blanket, a sigh of relief as cold air washed over my sweat soaked skin.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">I kicked my legs off the side of the bed. Flexing my toes against the cool surface relishing in it. Looking down to my mess of books. Lord of the Flies.</span> <span class="s3"> American Psycho. World War Z.  <em>And you wonder why you’re having trouble sleeping.</em></span></p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">I continued to sit there a few minutes basking in the silence all around. The images playing over and over in my head. <br/>
</span>This had been the third time this week, with the same nightmare.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I shook the images from my mind but they were definitely things that were hard to forget. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">My bloodied skin. <br/>
My mauled hand.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">The infection growing. <br/>
</span>The image of my feet in a pool of my own blood atop my own mess.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">What was truly worrisome was the sound of his voice. Why did it sound</span> <span class="s2">hurt? Why was it him? <em>Because you’re still in love with him, idiot. </em>That last part was the one thing I chose not to understand, to not accept. <em>He left me he has no right to worry anymore, he chose her.<br/>
</em></span><span class="s2">His tone, the way he said my name, the way he made my head spin whenever he’d say anything, it was all muddled with the constant drip drip from the bath room sink. </span> <em> <span class="s3">I should really fix that.</span></em></p><p class="p3">
  <strong>. . . . . </strong>
</p><p class="p3"><br/>
Dust dancing in the daylight watching them weave in and out of sight.<br/>
Sunlight trickling in from behind the blinds. The sun was completely lost on me since they were almost always drawn.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s3">“Timmy!” </span> <span class="s2">The inflection in his voice, the worry matching the expression on his face as I called out to him just before my vision went black. I shut my eyes, rubbing them too hard thinking that in someway that would help erase the image and sound of him.</span></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">So instead I try to focus on the sounds coming from outside my window. </span>The sound of cars driving by. Honks. Ambulances off in the distance. The hustle and bustle of the city was something any New Yorker I’m sure has the ability to drown out. Especially since there’s so much of it. <br/>
Getting out of bed, covering myself with my hand to my crotch, I looked down to the street watching people weaving in and out of one another. Small groups of people here and there not abiding by the regulations.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2"><br/>
</span> <em> <span class="s3">Shelter-in-place much? </span> </em> <span class="s3">Scoffing to myself as I tore myself from the window.<br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p3">The sound of the city a huge contrast to the silence amongst my four walls.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">I went back to the books that were strewn across the floor. Moving the books around with my big toe, looking for the one book that I kept very close to me. A piece of memorabilia that held some credence to what we had. That I wasn’t just some side piece for him. <em>Who are you kidding, you were a side note. He chose her, not you.<br/>
</em></span> <span class="s2">When he left, he had taken everything. The space I made for him in my closet was empty. I didn’t have the courage to change the way he left his night stand. <em>I still cal it his night stand. </em>He was all over the apartment and yet the book was all I had left of him. The one thing he didn’t take with him, that he never bothered to ask for its return. It was a book that he recommended on his twitter awhile back. The cute selfie he took with it saved somewhere in phone. The dog eared pages where he could return to read his favorite passages. The tattered cover from being taken everywhere with him. The binding nearly falling apart. His scribbles...</span></p><p class="p2">I didn’t even want to touch it.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2"> Frankly I never opened the book again once he left. I was tempted to even trash it at one point. And every time I found the courage to do it, I would back out. I was fearful of the memories it would evoke to read his thoughts, to read too much into the lines he highlighted. <br/>
</span>Yet I was itching to see some part of him even through chicken scratch. I knew it was something I shouldn’t indulge. Because I’d be happy for that moment but at the same time would regret every moment of it. <em>He’s not coming back to you.</em></p><p class="p3"><br/>
And yet the only thing I could think of.</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s3">I miss you.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I couldn’t even say his name.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <strong>. . . . .</strong>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">I don’t know how long I must’ve been standing there looking down at that book cover before I realized my phone was sounding off in the living room.<br/>
</span>His hold on me gone and I was grateful for it.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s3">“COMING!” As if the person was actually here.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s3"><br/>
“Where the fuck are you?” Growing</span><span class="s2"> more aggravated with myself in letting this place go to shit. I searched for my phone in my backpack, nothing. The coffee table, just a day old mug of tea. The ringing getting louder as I got to one end of the couch where a weeks worth of laundry had been thrown and needed to be folded.<br/>
</span><span class="s3">“AHA!” </span> <span class="s2">I found it underneath the pile. </span> <em> <span class="s3">I should really fold these.</span></em></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hello?” My voice rough, from lack of use. My voice foreign to me.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy, where are you Mate? Is everything okay?” His deep voice booming on the other end. His raspy English accent like a caress and full of concern. I instantly hate the effect it has on me because it occurs at every inopportune time. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“Oliver.” My voice cracking, </span> <em> <span class="s3">how old are you?</span> </em> <span class="s2"> I’m sure he’s smiling. I revel in the sound of his voice, thankful for the distraction. “Awe man, I’m so sorry! Let me throw something on and I’ll be on my way.” Finally realizing why he was calling, our brunch date. Which would now be lunch. “12:34pm, shit!”</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I couldn’t help but blush upon hearing him laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p3">“No worries. I can’t wait to see you.” My heart tightening at his confession.</p><p class="p3">”Me too” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon.” Palming the blush on my cheeks.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Picking up random pieces from my laundry. Getting dressed as fast as I possibly can. Throwing on a pair of light blue denim. An oversized white crew neck sweatshirt and some battered Converse. Running to my bathroom I splashed my face with some water, brushed my teeth, and ran my fingers through my hair. <em>Nothing I can do about that</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Checking my pockets for everything, mask in hand I was out the door. Texting Oliver.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"> <strong>Timothée: Oliver! I’m on my way.</strong> </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Putting my headphones on as I ran out my building, the sound from his text dinging in my headphones. Scaring me as I nearly bumped into a woman on the street. Her face annoyed with me for having invaded her space.</span>
</p><p class="p2">Apologizing profusely. <br/>
Looking down at my phone, a smile across my face hidden behind my mask.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"> <b>Oliver: No rush! Just get to me safe.</b> </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 1 • Afternoon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Her bare hands clasped at her mouth to keep whatever from escaping. Her eyes wide and filled with terror.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Walking down Christopher Street there was a chill in the air. It was a pleasant surprise for mid May. Looking over my shoulder I took the opportunity to jog across an empty street hoping onto Grove nearly missing a bicyclist barreling by. With no apology, no remorse.<br/>
<span class="s2">Typical New York, even with the decline of foot traffic. As if he didn’t have an empty road to himself. </span> <em> <span class="s3">Now that I think about it, he should have said sorry.</span></em></p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I continued down the road passing Christopher Park, a small gated outdoor space. Not much room to do anything other than talk and be in each others way. Noticing almost immediately too many people in one place. There were two </span>women in particular who caught my attention, who were sitting on the same bench, with only a purse between them.<br/>
I’m sure these two could have spoken through text or FaceTime if they needed to see each other. But here they were sitting at a bench that read “Please Do Not Sit”</p><p class="p3">“Mommy look!” Two little girls<span class="s2">, one blonde the other a brunette. Calling out to their moms. The two chasing each other, being typical children. I’m sure the excitement of playing outside and not in your living room was a step up.<br/>
Oh how I can relate. Despite me being a hermit myself, the feeling of being outside after spending unnecessary amounts of time held hostage inside, I’d be screaming too.</span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Their mothers lost in their drivel, not caring in the least to either one of their children. They were oblivious to their daughters shrill screams. <em>Probably from months of it at all home.</em> But  to those of us out, braving this epidemic were well aware of the sound pollution. It was clear they’d had enough of their offspring and had mastered the ability of drowning them out.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <strong>
    <span class="s2">. . . .</span>
  </strong>
  <span class="s2"> .</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The coughing fit happened so quickly, the brunette girl had caught up to the blonde, shoving her to the ground. Her screams of agony were ear splitting and were much louder than her laughter just moments ago.<br/>
My focus back on the mothers, who made little to no attempt to see what had happened. The mother of the brunette had rolled her eyes and while the mother of the blonde laughed. <em>Bitch.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Reluctantly they made their way over. Both annoyed with their own kids. “What did you do to her?!” The mother of the brunette getting down on her daughter’s eye level. The girl that was one the ground had been crying, and was completely overreacting. It took a few moments for her mother to calm her down; but not before she suddenly broke out in a coughing fit.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The child was so shocked by what she had allowed to happen. Her eyes were round like saucers. She gripped her mouth quickly halting her coughs as much as she could. </span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">Her mother by her side instant lying. The mother took her little hands from her mouth shouting in her face “Not with your hands! What did I tell you?! This is dirty!” She screamed at her, causing the girl to freeze in her spot. Her coughs subsided. Her tears were few. It looked like her mother was saying things under her breathe with her finger pointed at her daughter.<br/>
</span>I could hear nothing further. I wanted to say something but it wasn’t my place.</p><p class="p3"><em> <span class="s3">As if she’s the problem? You should be watching her better. <br/>
</span></em> <em> <span class="s3">Besides why the hell aren’t you home?<br/>
</span> </em> <em> <span class="s3">... The same reason why you aren’t!<br/>
</span> </em> <em> <span class="s3">I’m getting food not endangering others hacking out my lungs.<br/>
</span> </em> <em> <span class="s3">Touché.</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I took one more look and see the little blonde girl turning red in the cheeks her breathing heavy. My heart broke for her but there was </span> <span class="s3">nothing I could do.</span></p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">So I continued on, E40 pulling me back to my music. Stuffing my hands in my pockets I crossed the street giving others their space. Allowing those from the subway to walk out freely. Walking around the crowd of people that had assembled in front of Starbucks. <br/>
</span>Breaking away from the crowd I found myself standing in front of Boucherie and there he was.</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">Standing off to the side where the outdoor patio would have been with both hands in his pockets. His eyes downcast to his feet. Fiddling with something under his boot. As I slowed my pace to take him in fully. Hunched over I could still see his height. Standing next to him I always had to look up. I could see from here his shoulders were tense. The lines in his neck were taut. His beard peaking out from underneath his mask. His mouth pouting. </span> <em> <span class="s3">I kept him waiting too long.</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">As if on cue he looked up into the crowd and locked eyes on me. It took him a second to register it was me but the moment he did the worry on his face vanished. <br/>
</span><em><span class="s3">Damnit Tim</span> </em>cursing <span class="s2">myself for missing my train.</span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">When I got closer the smile finally met his eyes. And the lines at the corners made me want to kiss them. His eyes getting so small as and I was convinced he was all teeth behind that mask. My heart was full.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“Oliver I’m so sorry!” I was apologizing to him before I even got to him. My hands nervously racking through my greasy hair. <em>I should have showered. <br/>
</em></span> <span class="s2">“I overslept. Please don’t tell me you weren’t waiting long?” Stopping an arms length away from him. Wanting to hug him but fighting the urge. Instead I stick out my foot, which he didn’t take. My heart fell. But I before I knew it I was wrapped in his arms. Smiling against his chest.<em> You smell so good.</em></span></p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“No, I wasn’t waiting long.” </span> <strong><em><span class="s3">Liar.</span></em></strong> <span class="s2"> “It’s all ready to go they’re just keeping it warm for us. So where are we going, your place or mine?” He asked pulling away from me but this time tapping my foot against his.</span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I looked up into his eyes, those green pools that I could drown in. He’s still smiling his eyes turned into lines whenever he was genuinely smiles. And I’m suddenly relieved that I’m wearing a mask to cover the blush on my cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">For a moment we stood there undisturbed. Me trying to get as much of a glimpse of his eyes through his eyelashes. Oliver lost with the image of our feet side by side.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong>. . . . .</strong>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Mr. Cohen! Mr. Chalamet! Your lunch! Enjoy enjoy. You two be safe now!” Emil the owner of Boucherie appearing with an obscene sized bag of takeout.</span>
</p><p class="p2">Oliver taking it from him, “Thank you Emil!” The two share an elbow tap. Emil giving my shoulders a firm grip as I pass him by.</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">We walked in silence for a moment. <br/>
</span>He kept our lunch in his left hand while his right was left free. Free to graze my hand once or twice. <br/>
Silence. Comfortable silence.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">At a crosswalk we shared a couple glances when finally he took the opportune time to speak.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re wearing my sweater.” Hovering over my ear, the fabric of his mask tickling me.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I guess I am.” Looking down at his sweater pulling at the fabric at my waist. It was a little oversized but it didn’t bother me.</span>
</p><p class="p2">“It looks good you.” He admitted. My cheeks red.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Is it keeping you warm?” Stepping off the curb first, eyeing both directions before taking my hand in his. Our fingers interlocked as we cornered his building.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“For the most part, yes.” It’s almost a whisper.  The both of us coming to the stairs that would take us up to his apartment. Turning around to face me. <br/>
</span>“If the sweater isn’t doing the trick, maybe this will.” He says softly as he closes the space between us pressing his masked covered lips to my nose.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Smiling downward to our locked hands he leads us up the few stairs to his front door. Letting go of my hand, not necessarily enjoying the sudden loss of it. My phone going off in my pocket as he searched for his keys.</span>
</p><p class="p3">”Go ahead, I’ll get the door.” He said getting his keys into the door. The sound of it swinging open echoed in my ears as I looked down to the screen.</p><p class="p3">Thinking it was Pauline or my parents but instead the name caught me off guard.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Armand Hammer</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">The door was wide open and Oliver was already in the hallway. Mask off and was facing me. </span><br/>
The worry back on his face.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy what’s wrong?” Watching him from outside as he placed our lunch on the wooden bench in the foyer.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Nothing.” I hit the ignore button and walked inside.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 1 • Evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“And you’ll go back to him, just like that.” A broken whisper and my heart was breaking. You’re hurting him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” It was torture for me hearing the pain in his voice. Knowing I was the cause of it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Turning to him and attempting to answer and failing miserably. I continued to sit there, fiddling my thumbs thankful that his attention was on the news. Yet I could tell he was growing impatient. He needed an explanation, he deserved one.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I watched his hand on his mouth, chin cupped on his thumb his pointer finger in between his teeth. A gesture I had grown familiar with, his “tell” I called it. <br/>
</span>His way of stopping himself from saying what he really wanted to say.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">He made no attempts to look in my direction and when he did he avoided making eye contact with me, it was unbearable. </span> <em><span class="s3">He asked you a simple question and you’re being being difficult. <br/>
</span></em><span class="s2">This was all my doing and yet silence was all I could give him. </span> <em> <span class="s3">Idiot!</span></em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sensing my hesitation and already knowing the reason for my sudden shift in mood, he had spared us both.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“He’s still trying to get in touch with you isn’t he?” He removed his hand from his mouth, plopping it down on the arm rest. His eyes drawn to the coffee table, to his lunch, to the book he was reading earlier just before he met me at Boucherie, to anything ... other than me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Answer me!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I shut up my eyes at how loud he sounded in comparison to the tv. I nodded in reply. Now it was I who couldn’t look him in the eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I could hear him sigh. I could hear and feel him shift in his seat. Yet I refused to look at him, to see the hurt that Armie and I were causing him. He reached out to me, his hand over mine. Our fingers weaving in and out of one another before I began to stroke his protruding vein on his back-hand. <br/>
</span> <em>You’re the reason he’s annoyed yet he’s comforting you? How does that work exactly?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t know what he wants.” I finally manage to say. Telling him the truth. I had been avoiding him ever since it made the news.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <em> <strong><span class="s3">“In other news, today, Elizabeth Chambers and Armand Hammer married for ten years, parents of two have filed for divorce. </span>Back to our up to the minute Coronavirus coverage!”</strong> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">That’s how I had found out. Not a call, not a text. Maybe something from Luca? No. Through the news, a side note. Just like what I had been to him, a side piece, not important enough to be on the front page.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em> <span class="s3">What did you think, the world going to shit and all of a sudden he had an epiphany? He leaves his wife of ten years for you? You figure he came to the realization, the world is coming to an end and he needs to make up for long lost time? Remember, he didn’t stay for you. He didn’t even bother to tell you. He’s not coming for you.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“I know EXACTLY who he wants.” </span> <em><span class="s3">WHO. Clearly annoyed.</span> <span class="s3">With me, Armie, or the situation, all three? I couldn’t tell. Safe to say, all the above.</span></em></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oliver standing, his warm hand leaving mine. Leaving me feeling empty in more ways than one. He grabbed the plates from off the coffee table and made his way to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">The sound of plates hitting the counter seemed louder than necessary. </span> <em> <span class="s3">Probably because you’ve barely spoken since you got here!</span> </em></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I watched Oliver stand at the sink, his back to me with his head slumped between his shoulder blades. Both hands gripping onto the edge of the sink as if it were a life preserve. Looking up to the ceiling I watched as he stretched the tension out of his neck.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sitting up from the sofa he had turned to look at me, his back to the sink, his arms crossed and hunched over. Looking at me but this time, searching. Searching for answers I was not giving him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“And you’ll go back to him, just like that.” A broken whisper and my heart was breaking. </span> <em> <span class="s3">You’re hurting him.</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I got up from my seat and crossed the space between us. Even hunched over I still had to look up. I stood there not coming into his bubble. Waiting for a sign, any sign. He kept his eyes on me. Searching, pleading. Mine never leaving his. He straightened his back, his arms still across his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I placed my hand on top of his forearm and gave him the only answer I could give him. “I don’t know.” My voice weak.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I didn’t know. But I knew it wasn’t as simple as he was making it out to be.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He unwrapped his arms opening them up to me and I moved into them. My face in his chest and my arms around him, clinging to the top of his shirt as if he’ll disappear if I don’t. His nose in my hair. His grip tight around my body.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I won’t make it easy for him.” I heard him confess. Before placing a chaste kiss on top of my head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I never thought you would.” I held onto him tighter. My heart warm.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“God you need a shower.” I couldn’t help but be grateful at his successful attempt to change the subject.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">We’ll let this go tonight. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll clean up.” He pulled me away from him, pulling my chin up to look at him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <em> <span class="s3">Don’t make it easy for him, please.</span> </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Day 2 • Demon Hour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I couldn’t help but laugh, my forehead resting on the glass, my eyes opening looking back out onto the street.</p><p> </p><p>My body still my blood ran cold.</p><p> </p><p>There he was standing in the same spot. His hands to his side his head swaying slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oliver...” It was a whisper and I was sure he didn’t even hear.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is full on smut. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I had woken up to the sound of the curtains flapping from the wind coming through the open window. The house was still. The trees outside the bedroom window rustling in the breeze.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oliver pressed to my side, his arm draped over my naked chest. His face buried into the crook of my neck. His beard rubbing me raw. My arm clinging onto him. His naked body lit by the street lamp casting an orange hue on his already tan skin.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Looking to the clock on the night stand </span> <em> <span class="s2">3:13am</span> </em> <span class="s1"><em>.</em> I cursed myself for being a light sleeper. </span> <em> <span class="s2">Anything could wake me up.</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trying not to wake him, I peeled Oliver’s arm off me as gentle as I could. Oliver scratching his nose, looking so innocent gave me a smile. Turning his back on me, I placed my hand between his shoulders, a little snore escaping his side of the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Making as little noise as possible I tip toed on creaky wooden floors. Which Oliver slept through.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">I gave myself praise for not crashing into anything or stubbing my toe along my way to the window. </span> <span class="s2">He’ll be up in a couple of hours to go to work. Even though work would be the couch and coffee table and reading scripts</span> <span class="s1">. </span> <span class="s2">Let’s try to not ruin a perfectly good nights rest.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Basking in the cold evening breeze, I found myself standing there for a moment. The cold making my nipples hard. Making my stomach tightened. Goosebumps dusting my thighs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">I stood there completely naked, not caring who saw. </span> <em> <span class="s2">It’s three a.m. no one is watching.</span> </em></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My mind going back to a time in Italy. Standing at a window with him. His fingers digging into my sides.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Stop!</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shutting my eyes. Forcing the image, that day, that entire filming out of my mind. Completely frustrated with myself for giving him that slip.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em> <span class="s2">Go to bed!</span> </em> <span class="s1"> I was about to shut the window when the sudden shriek of a car alarm sounded off down the street. Looking over my shoulder I was a bit surprised to find Oliver had not even shifted.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">The alarm had gone on longer than it should have. I was convinced that the owner of the car could hear it and was too lazy to turn it off.</span> <em> <strong> <span class="s2">Please go turn it off! No! You turn it off!</span> </strong> </em> <span class="s1"> I could hear the couples argument now.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em> <span class="s2">Who the fuck needs a car in the city anyway?!</span> </em> <span class="s1"> Till this day the thought infuriates me.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">By now someone should have turned it off. But nothing. My curiosity </span> <span class="s2">or anger</span> <span class="s1"> getting the best of me, I clutched thedrapes over my crotch before peaking my head out to see who was disturbing the neighborhood.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But all I could see was the car’s lights four brownstones down.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I looked up and down at an empty Morton Street and saw nothing. Letting go of the drapes and gripping onto the window overhead, I pulled it down. The wood creaking loud over the car alarm. Latching the window shut, the alarm had come to an abrupt stop.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Finally!</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As I shut the opaque curtains I could faintly make out the street below. And I could have sworn there was no one there. But now just below the window sill in the middle of the street, stood what looked like a very large man. Taken by surprise I took a step back. Hidden by the dark of the bedroom.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His front was completely shrouded in darkness. But the street light from overhead casting a foreboding shadow which stretched out onto the curb. The man remained unmoving longer than necessary. The sudden fear that he’d walk up to the front door was unnerving. But he made no attempt to move.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">A new fear was dawning on me. </span> <span class="s2"><em>He’s watching you</em> ... </span> <span class="s1">the hairs on the back of my head standing.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Timmy?” That groggy accent startling me a bit. “Come back to bed. It’s too early to be up.” He yawned.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“I was getting cold.” Turning to face the window once more, expecting for him to still be there. Which he wasn’t ... </span> <span class="s2">Did I imagine it?</span> <span class="s1"> My thoughts racing my nerves getting the best of me.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oliver must’ve sensed something was wrong because he was by my side in an instant. Pulling back the curtain just enough to look out to see a figure swaying off in the distance, “Probably just an idiot who’s drunk walking the streets bumping into cars.” Turning to face me he took hold of my arms and started drawing small soothing circles.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trying to forget what I had thought of earlier and what I saw just moments ago I was thankful for the distraction that was placed in front of me.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Admiring Oliver’s thick chest hair, my fingers found themselves trailing up and down the hairs on his stomach. My finger traveling down his happy trail, dipping into his hairy belly button. Causing him to latch onto my hand, his deep laugh making my heart tighten. The blush on my cheeks spreading down my neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His hands found their way into my hair, pushing through unruly curls. I stood there looking up at him, completely in awe at how beautiful someone could look lit by street light and how he could look the way he did having just woken up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Placing my hand on his chest my fingers found themselves brushing through his coarse chest hair. Watching his Adam’s apple move as I traced alongside its ridge, causing him to gulp.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Cupping his stumbled chin he leaned into my touch and held my hand in his. His eyes closed he gave me a content smile on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draping an arm over the small of my back he used the other to grip my ass in his large hand to pull me into him. His breath warm on my face, the growl in his throat making me hard. His smile never leaving his face as he rubbed our hardening cocks together. The both of us leaking precum on one another.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I watched as he brought two of his fingers to our slits to collect as much precum as possible. An unexpected moan escaping my lips. Causing him to come forward to nip at my lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Open up your legs” pulling away slightly to breathe those words into my mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Raising my leg just above his thigh to give him access I watched as he brought his wet fingers glimmering in the streetlight in between my legs. Making me leak knowing it was both of us on those two digits.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lightly began tapping my hole just before I felt his coated middle finger slip in, his stare never leaving mine as he hooked his finger into me, my back arching as he massaged me from the inside. I must have wavered in my balance because with his free hand he had gripped the back of my neck tenderly to keep our gaze on each other. His bottom lip caught between his teeth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Slipping in his other finger I already felt so full. He had already broken me in a couple hours ago. But I was always so tight to him. “I could still feel my cum inside you.” His smile full of mischief. Nodding was my only response. Scissoring me open my eyes rolling into the back of my head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Completely lost in his assault I was left feeling empty when he removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth this time spitting into his large palm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Palming my puckered hole, I could feel his saliva coating it nearly cumming as he thrusted in a calloused third finger, spreading me open further, then a fourth. I was nearly in tears from wanting to cum so bad but was fighting the urge. As painful as it was.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He must’ve sensed my struggle. My heavy breathing, the tightening around him, and my erratic fucking of myself on his palm. A small puddle of Oliver’s saliva used to open me up and his cum from our earlier fuck had dripped down onto the wooden floor. Me leaking all over my nuts and into my own hole.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The image of it all was nearly enough to take me over the edge.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No you’re not.” Toying with me clamping down on my neck, biting down just enough for my urge to subside. Pulling his fingers out of me making me whimper in protest. He turned me around to face the window once more, bending over the sound of him spitting on my whole was vulgar and immensely arousing. Standing behind me in a wide stance, positioning the tip of his cock, breaching my rim I could barely hear him warn me “Don’t touch yourself.” I could hear the smile in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Placing my palms on the curtains, the glass cold underneath my touch. I looked overhead to find one of Oliver’s hands clawing at the frame of the window while the other gripped tight at my hip. “Push your ass out.” His heavy accent in my ears. Licking my lobe as I followed his orders. “Good boy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His wide stance made me feel small as I arched my back, offering myself to him, guiding his cock into me with hips alone not a helping hand from me or himself. He made me feel immensely full and he was only half way in. “You okay?” Rubbing his face into the back of my hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Deeper.” I could barely say as I pushed back to meet him. Growling into my hair, I found his free hand had found it’s way to my dick, giving it a slight tug causing me to clench around him. He paused for a second, huffing and puffing “You almost made me cum.” I couldn’t tell whether he was amused or disappointed. He slid his hand up my pubes, up my stomach, to pinch my nipple. Another clench and this time he bit down on my shoulder </span> <em><span class="s2">Did he break skin</span> <span class="s1">? Honestly </span> <span class="s2">I wouldn’t have cared. </span></em><span class="s1">His hand found its destination, wrapping around my neck holding me in place as he bottomed out. His pubes brushing against my cheeks.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took him a few seconds to regain his composure. But before I knew it, he was nearly pulling completely out and driving back in. Fucking me so hard I was pushed up against the glass, my pants egging him on. The curtains draped haphazardly all over me. My hands on the glass leaving foggy imprints behind. Streaks of my hands staining the glass. I knew he wasn’t going to last, I could feel his established pace quicken and falter. Long strokes became short jabs. Heavy breathing became praise and my name echoed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Timmy... ” my mind going foggy every time he’d say my name.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His hand leaving my neck and gripping my hips tight. The sound of our fucking, our skin to skin, the wetness loud in the room. Looking down, I could see the imprints he was leaving on my skin and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. The pink of my skin flushed and most likely bruised. “I’m going to cum!” He said through gritted teeth. His hand traveling back up to my neck, clutching tight at the base his nails scraping against my scalp. Grabbing a fist full of hair, he held me against the window fully exposed to the street. Completely aroused being at Oliver’s mercy I knew I wasn’t going to last long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And in the most inopportune time, I was brought back to Bergamo. To him and I in the window. To that night after filming we had fucked just before he got on video chat with Elizabeth and the kids.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And suddenly the thought of Oliver in me while Armie watched. Or joining, had me coating the window.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">We stood there spent, trying to catch our breath. Oliver’s dick still inside me, his load running down my leg, his fist in my hair loosening. The window foggy from our heavy breathing, the only sound now in the room. Placing my forehead on the glass thankful for its cold touch. My vision a hazy mess.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">I felt Oliver slipping out of me but not by choice. “I wish I could sleep inside you.” He said laughing awkwardly as his head slipped out. Making an obscene </span> <span class="s2">plop</span> <span class="s1"> sound.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Laughing myself I remained plastered on the window. The fog from our body heat slowly disappearing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">I can’t believe you thought of him just now</span> <span class="s1"> shaking my head.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Looks like you and I will be going curtain shopping today.” I looked up to see Oliver clutching at his sweat cum covered drapes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I couldn’t help but laugh, my forehead resting on the glass, my eyes opening looking back out onto the street.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My body still my blood ran cold.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There he was standing in the same spot. His hands to his side his head swaying slightly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oliver...” It was a whisper and I was sure he didn’t even hear.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were so good baby.” He said kissing the space between my shoulder blades and taking a swat at my butt.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No ... Oliver look.” I said pulling away from the window.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oliver looking at me and at the window confused. He took one giant step towards the window. Pulling back the curtains just enough to look down at the street.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck..” he said under his breath. “What the fuck is he doing?” Letting the curtains fall back Oliver remained there. Waiting for him to move. Nothing. Growing impatient Oliver turned to find my worried expression.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Smiling from ear to ear.Trying to calm my nerves with humor.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, it must’ve been a good show.” He said innocently.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Taking my cheek into his palm he went quiet. And we remained there in silence. His eyes never leaving mine. Oliver wanting to say something, his mouth opening and closing. </span> <span class="s2">What?</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go to bed. It’s just some creep fucking with peoples cars and watching people fuck.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He brought his forehead to mine. Kissing my nose gently. Taking my hand in his I let him guide me.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But not before getting one more look out onto the street to find the figure lumbering out of view.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">. . . . . . .</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">We laid in bed, my back to Oliver’s front. He had fallen back asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was nearly sun up when I found myself finally nodding off.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My thoughts were racing and I didn’t know what was scarier.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">The man in the street?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">What Oliver was about to say?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Oliver or Armie?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Oliver, Armie, and myself?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">And the three of us ... together.</span> </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Day 2 • Morning Dew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Armie:</p><p>      Have u watched the news? Wtf Tim!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a sleepless rest of the evening, tossing and turning as an unbothered Oliver slept by my side. Getting acquainted with his snoring that I didn’t realize he did until now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I had been sitting up for the past couple of hours watching the sun slowly creep it’s way through the shudders, illuminating his room. Oliver’s messy book case with a recent photo of him and I at a street fair taken with a polaroid camera just before Shelter In Place, which was resting against the spine of a book, our clothes thrown everywhere. A couple of scripts in a chair in the corner of the room, next to them his ruined curtains that we’d have to replace today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything a mere distraction to what was really plaguing my mind. The man in the streets that no doubt had a front row seat to our show to what crossed my mind to make me ruin the curtains in the first place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In all honesty, the excitement of being watched didn’t bother me, I didn’t care for the drapes all that much either. But what I did care about, what did bother me was the image of Armie, Oliver, and I in this very bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">With Oliver in front of me with Armie behind ... the two of them in pure agonizing bliss egging one another on while I was ... </span> <em> <span class="s2">Christ, of course you’re hard!</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, where you at?” Oliver’s groggy voice followed by a yawn. “Where did you go just now?” He said one more time with his hand coming to my arm, rubbing it gently.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nowhere.” I whispered to him. Adjusting myself as I straightened up, my back fully on the headboard. Thankful for the soft cool leather against the back of my neck.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Liar” he said sweetly. “You hadn’t even noticed I was awake.” Sitting up and giving me a peck on the cheek.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>Liar.</em> <em>I guess I am, since I can’t, won’t tell you.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Last night was incredible.” He said, lifting himself off the headboard cupping my face into his palms. Making me give him my undivided attention. “You’re so beautiful.” His words were so soft I couldn’t help but blush and feel immense guilt at the same time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Placing my hand over his, I closed my eyes and listened to his steady breathing. Hoping that with less eye contact I wouldn’tbe so inclined to feel like shit. Instead I found calm as I listened to his heartbeat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You shouldn’t worry about that guy, if that’s what has you bothered?” His question ripping me out of my peace of mind. His hands leaving my face, the bed shifting from his weight as he takes three large steps to the bathroom. He’s already by the counter, the water running before I can muster up an answer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But what if...” I can’t seem to find the words.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He was most likely intoxicated, Timothée.” Turning around to face me, his messy hair, his naked butt against the bathroom counter arms crossed, and dick resting on his thigh. The sight of him barefooted, legs crossed with his glasses on made me incredibly aroused.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But as quickly as he got my dick wet he quickly took me out of it with the worry on his face. And in that moment, I knew he was making whatever excuses he could think of to make up for what he now was regretting himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“It was reckless of me to have taken advantage of you like that.” Looking down. </span> <em> <span class="s2">How could you be this sweet.</span> </em> <span class="s1"> “But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy every moment of it.” Looking up from his lashes and his cheaters. “I would hate for that fucker to have taken a photo of you or worse a video and posted it somewhere.” Palms down on the counter, his dick hardening at the thought from last night.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Me too.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not complaining Oliver.” I said getting up, my hands frantically combing through my hair. It must be looking crazy since I didn’t bother to comb it after the shower I had last night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walking over to him, placing my hands on his hips, and pressing our naked bodies today. Our dicks gliding against one another.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Mmm” Escaping his mouth as I placed a kiss on his slightly chapped lips. </span> <span class="s2">Spring Allergies</span> <span class="s1">. Our groins rubbing against one another. His dick leaking against mine. “Well in that case, let’s do it again.” Laughing at himself.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t have any plans for the day, if you wanted to spend the day with me.” He asked coyly his glasses sliding down his nose a bit. Not making eye contact, in fear that I’d say yes out of pressure or reject him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“What do you have planned for the day?” I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. </span> <span class="s2">I certainly have one.</span> <span class="s1"> My hand, sliding down both his hairy thighs, back up to his dick, which I groped alongside his balls in my palm.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His breath caught in his throat. “Well...” he coughed which made me chuckle. “Well we need to eat, which I just realized we have nothing to cook” Giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. “So grocery shopping is in order?” Kissing my cheeks and then kissing my forehead. “Oh and then buy new curtains!” He said laughing and nodding towards the drapes behind me. “BUT, first, I was thinking ...”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He needn’t say more. Sliding down his body, keeping my eyes on him, I popped his dick in my mouth and down my throat with ease. “Do you taste yourself on me?” His voice loud in my ears as he grabbed a fist full of my hair pulling me off his dick with just the head in my mouth and driving his full length down my throat. “Timmy your teeth ... more!” His grunts were music to my ears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It didn’t take long before he was cumming down my throat, his load spilling out from the corners of my mouth onto the bathroom floor mixing in with mine as I unloaded all over the tile and onto his foot.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s3">. . . . . . </span> </strong>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Why the fuck are u not answering my messages?</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p7">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Why are U ignoring me?</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p7">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Answering ur fucking phone?!</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Timmy!</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p8">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Have u watched the news? Wtf Tim!</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p9"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p8">
  <strong> <span class="s1">I’m getting on the next flight! Timmy!</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Armie:</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Ur mom and Pauline haven’t heard from u in the last 48hrs. We’ve all been trying to get ahold of u. Wtf is going on?</span> </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Day 2 • Afternoon Delight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Now he looks at it.” His voice froze me in place. I knew it immediately. What was that voice doing here? Was this a joke? Was life playing a cruel joke? Why was that voice in my ears as if its owner was amongst these four walls.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Would you like to stop by your place before we head back to mine?” Oliver asked me as he struggled to get his bearings on the grocery bags. His voice muffled behind his mask.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Glancing over my shoulder, “Yeah, I just need to get a few things, like underwear, socks, you know. But we should probably get rid of these.” Grabbing a couple of bags from him as we left Brooklyn Fare.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Thank you.” Coming forward he placed a mask covered peck on my cheek. Blushing instantly. Realizing this was the first time anyone was comfortable enough to be intimate with me out in the open. We kept close by one another, our elbows occasionally bumping into one another. “You could just walk around naked.” The both of us laughing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You would want that, wouldn’t you?” Nudging him, laughing further when he nearly lost his balance.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The air was crisp and the breeze from last night lingered. Bringing with it some overcast. The walk from the market to his building wasn’t far and the silence that fell upon us didn’t feel awkward.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It would have been a perfect day to be out In Central Park. Sitting in the grass. Instead it was afternoon strolls through nearly empty sidewalks, crossing streets without having to worry about vehicles, the occasional bike rider speeding by.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s3">Would I ever get use to seeing my once vibrant city be devoid of life?!</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You know you could just go through my closet and borrow whatever you need?” He suggested in mock surprise. Rolling my eyes not even thinking that was an option. Looking over my shoulder, my curls swinging in the wind. Catching a whiff of Oliver’s shampoo in my unruly hair.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’re a comedian. Have you ever thought of a career change?” Straight faced.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“You’re an arse.” We started laughing as we turned onto Morton Street. </span> <span class="s3">Almost home! Wait, what the fuck was that? Home?!</span> <span class="s2"> Shaking my head at the thought.</span></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4"><span class="s2">  </span> <strong><span class="s4">. . . . . . </span></strong></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Opting to walk to my place was an easy decision. It had been advised that all residence of New York City if they could try their best to avoid the subway. Since it was the quickest way to come in contact with the virus.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was a great decision because it resulted in an empty High Line.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Walking through the manufactured garden we spoke of everything and anything. What scripts he had just been offered, the ones he liked and hoped he’d get. To the ones he hated that after reading the first few pages had been thrown on the chair in the corner of his room. But what struck me was when he admitted to what the impact that the quarantine would have on his just starting career.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oliver, you’re great. This won’t effect anything.” I really meant to reassure him. He took my hand into his and brought it to his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">Oliver felt immense guilt that 4000 miles had been postponed. How Dune would be effected because the virus. That Call Me by Your Name would be put on the back burner longer than what was intended. </span> <span class="s3">Even though I’m sure he’d rather the whole thing not happen at all.</span></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It didn’t take us long to get to my building, the lack of foot traffic helped greatly but what made the trip go by so quickly was the company. It was easy to have a conversation with Oliver. It flowed easy and you could talk about anything. And when there was nothing to say there was no need to fill it with empty words. But that vary thing also made me feel terrible. Knowing that I was concealing so much from him just to spare myself a difficult discussion with him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">Searching my pockets for my keys “I just need to grab a few things and we can head back.” Coming up empty </span><span class="s3">I must’ve left them at his place. </span> <span class="s2">“Shit!” Whispering underneath my breath. Turning to him with big eyes, hoping that would be enough for him to not be annoyed with me. He definitely wasn’t going to make a second trip. “Oliver, I think I might have left...”<br/>
</span>“Timmy?” I heard a familiar voice on the opposite side of the door. <br/>
“Is someone in your apartment?” Oliver asked me as he moved me away from the door. “Does someone has a spare key?” The door swinging wide open revealing a tiny woman.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy, finally! Why haven’t you been answering any of your phone calls or texts?” Her voice registering first before my brain could comprehend who was standing in front of us. My sister Pauline.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Pauline, what are you doing here!?” I was shocked.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t worry about that! What the fuck is wrong with you, are you okay?” Looking me over, for what, I had no idea.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“Good seeing you too, sister.” I said slightly hurt, going in for a hug, but her elbow jutting instead. “Don’t be stupid.” Rolling her eyes at me as she gave Oliver and I room to walk in. <br/>
</span><span class="s2">“Hello.” He said gently as he walked by her. <br/>
</span><span class="s2">Her confused expression written all over her face.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">“You must be Pauline! I’m Oliver, it’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard quite a few stories about you.” He couldn’t help but turn on his charm. </span> <em><span class="s3">Not sure that’s going to work on her, Ollie.</span></em></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes that’s me! It’s very nice to meet you.” She took a once over before giving him an elbow. “Oliver, I hope this doesn’t come off rude, but if you wouldn’t mind if I had a second with my brother?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh not at all, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.” Looking at the two of us, “Text me later, okay?” He kept his eyes on me, smiling gently. Bringing his hand to mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “That way I can bring back your keys.” He said smiling that smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You don’t have to leave.” I said weaker than I intended for it to sound.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“Ugh, yeah maybe it would be best if you stay right here. We just need a second.” Taking me by the hand, leading me into the hallway through the secondary entrance. <br/>
</span><span class="s2">“What is wrong with you?” Completely appalled with Pauline’s behavior. “You can’t just speak to someone so flippant.” I was getting aggravated, talking over her as she tried to explain herself.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">”Listen </span>Timo, I have something to tell you.” She was nervous as she struggled to keep her voice low. <em>We’re in a hallway, everyone can hear.</em> Looking back at my sister, the look on her face was that of panic.<br/>
And my annoyance with her quickly subsided.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“What’s wrong Pauline?” Suddenly scared for whatever she was trying to tell me. </span> <span class="s3">What could have brought my sister all the way home from Paris in such a spur of the moment? <br/>
</span><span class="s2">“Are Mom and Dad okay?” I asked, the fear of the unknown showing it’s ugly head. My hands searching my pockets for my phone, the sound of it unlocking echoing in the hallway.</span></p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“Oh NOW he looks at it.” That voice froze me in place and I knew it immediately. </span> <em><span class="s3">What was that voice doing here? Is someone playing a cruel joke? Why was that voice in my ears as if its owner was here amongst these four walls?</span></em></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Walking into the living room it all opened up with him standing by the window which overlooked all of Manhattan with his back against it all. His arms across his chest and looking straight into my eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">There he stood, like a god with the sun lighting him from behind. His fitted white tee with its sleeves rolled, His tight blue skinny jeans showing off his long legs, and his tattered worker boots his left foot taping nervously.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">I couldn’t help but be in awe of him. </span> <em><span class="s3">Was he always this tall?</span></em> <span class="s2"> “Well, aren’t you going to say hello? I mean I’ve just met ... Oliver here and he has better manners.” Their eyes connecting and never leaving one another’s.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hello.” My voice was coarse. Awkwardly placing my hand under my chin. Looking back and forth between the two.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He had a weeks worth of stumble on his chin. The hair lightly covering his neck. His troubled blue eyes shown bright against his white shirt and tan skin. His chest hair peeking out from under his crewneck, his muscles flexed and dusted with blonde hair.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Looking over my shoulders to Pauline, I was speechless. She adverted her eyes from me and shook her head. “In my defense, why didn’t you answer any of your messages?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So what brings you here to New York?” Oliver was abrupt and clear.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I needed to make sure everything was okay.” Armie answering him but looking at me. Causing me to look away, blushing. <em>Are you smiling?</em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What bullshit.” I heard Oliver say under his breath. <br/>
“Whatever you want to think.” Armie stood there challenging Oliver. Oliver’s hands on the back cushion of my couch, his knuckles bone white. All the while Pauline and I stood there watching them. <em>Egos</em><em>.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“Oliver let me explain, please.” Pauline said behind me as she walked around the couch to take a seat. <br/>
</span><span class="s2">“Armie ...” she started, the three of us looking at her, my eyebrow raised. “I mean we were both texting and calling Timo but neither one of us could get ahold of him and now we know why.” She gestured</span><span class="s2"> to Oliver. “I was in town because, well, you’ll find out soon enough. </span><span class="s2">So we decided that we’d come straight here. And since I have a spare key, I let us both in and we figured Timmy would show up whenever he decided.” She was lying.</span> <span class="s3"> Armie had the spare key, the one thing I never wanted him to give back. To forget he had it and one day come across it and remember suddenly what it was for. It was the one thing I never asked for back.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why are you here?” My voice was strong and unwavering. I didn’t want to skirt around the subject any longer. <em>Because THIS</em><em> so tiring.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Have you just been avoiding everything lately?” I was sure he meant that in more ways than one. And he said it with more sarcasm than I was willing to tolerate.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We’ve been busy.” Thankful for Oliver chiming in. We shared a glance that Armie had seen. Because the heavy sigh that left his lips, was deliberate.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“I bet you were.” Armie finally said as he took the remote off a nearby table and began flipping through channel after channel, all news, frantic reporters or an emergency emergency broadcast. </span> <em><span class="s3">What the fuck is going on?</span></em></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I looked up at Armie, taking him in, in complete awe that he was standing in front of me. His grip tight on the remote, his neck taut. The expression on his face, unreadable.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Adverting my eyes from Armie I settle on the local news that was unfolding right now in Central Park.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">A man who was stumbling into focus. His head askew, walking as if he was drunk. </span> <span class="s3">Last night.</span> <span class="s2"> The view was from the officers cam, his frantic screaming “Get down, get down!” His screaming making me incredibly uncomfortable.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The officers got no response from the man instead he continued forward. The frame of his face getting clearer, his pale skin, the blood on his mouth, the absent look in his eyes. “Alright, put him down!” I assumed the captain issued the open fire into the man. They put in a few rounds to only have the man get right back up again. But this time a single bullet to the head brought the man to his knees. Face first into the grass, blood spilling from the bullet wound.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Watching in disbelief I was convinced it was fake.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s complete bullshit. That isn’t real!” My arms throwing up in the air.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Armie flipping through more channels. Coming across a plane crash that had gone down in Nevada. Reports that one the of passengers had attacked a crew member and shortly after said crew member began attacking other passengers.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">While I was watching the world unravel I had taken my phone out of my pocket and was gripping onto it for dear life. Unlocking it I had come across the 20 or more missed calls from, Pauline, my parents, Luca, and Armie. The endless amount of texts. </span> <em> <span class="s3">Have you watched the news? Please stay indoors! Would you please answer me!</span> </em></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Moving on form my messages I searched for news headlines.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <span class="s4">Plane crash. Passengers attack crew.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <span class="s4">Several officers gun down New York man. Man gets back up.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <span class="s4">Subway derailed. Rider stumbles onto the tracks.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <span class="s4">Hospital worker attacked by patient after flatlining.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <span class="s4">Covid mutation.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <span class="s4">Zombie.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s3">Zombie?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Pauline had come from behind and walked over to the couch. Plopping down to watch the news.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver’s full attention was on the CNN anchor. Moving my gaze from him out to my view of New York City. The city unchanged. Nothing out of the ordinary.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2"><em> <span class="s3">Zombie. Zombie. Zombie.</span> </em> <span class="s2"> The word playing over and over in my mind.</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy” Oliver’s words pulling me from my thoughts.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">Looking to him, I found him standing </span> <span class="s2">on the other side of the couch. Standing beside a seated Pauline. Oliver and Armie both looking in my direction. Armie looking to Oliver, then down to his feet, turning away from me to look out to the city.</span></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s3">Why are you here?</span> </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Day 2 • Evenfall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oliver sighing. Daring to look out, Armie was sitting in a lounge chair. Wiping away at his eyes while Oliver was sitting across from him taking a sip of his drink. Looking out to the city, the plumes of smoke off in the distance. The lights from the overhead light, lit Oliver’s face beautifully, but under further observation revealed Oliver’s puffy eyes and tears streaming down his face.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“I think there’s more pressing matters we need to discuss.” Pauline was getting aggravated having to watch and listen to the endless bickering of Armie and Oliver as they interrogated one another.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Where’s your wife?” Oliver going in for the jugular. Pauline’s words falling on deaf ears. Her hands thrown in the air as a sign of surrender. All the while both men having no care in the world how uncomfortable the route they were taking this conversation. Armie challenging Oliver stood there arms crossed and not wanting to budge. But what was different, his lips were tightly shut and for once Armie was speechless. Armie, a man who always had something to say, always had a rebuttal, a sarcastic remark that was not warranted stood there completely silent. It was shocking to see him have nothing to counter with.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oliver knew mentioning Armie and Liz’s divorce was the low blow he needed to get an upper hand. He knew from the tabloids how messy their divorce was. And he made note to remember every single detail to throw it back in his face when he got the chance. The strain the divorce put on Armie and the kids was hard to watch. And as good of a friend despite our falling out I tried to be there for him, he kept me at bay and all I could do was watch from the sidelines. And after awhile it was time for me to walk away. It played out for the public to see and to criticize. It was all over the tabloids, Twitter, Instagram, and anywhere you looked it was mentioned. Rumors spread like wildfire, that their sex life had dwindled, that Armie was having an affair. That he had been spotted flying out to New York or around the globe on several occasions without her. That his “boys trips” became so frequent they began to raise questions. The mistress if there was one, which was me, a complete mystery. We must’ve hid it so well because they never seemed to tie the two of us together in the same area. And if they did they never mentioned it. The news made Liz sound like she was the jilted wife. That she was the innocent one in all of this. When I’m fact she was reluctant to get a divorce because she was fearful of what people would say, but in all honesty she wasn’t ready to give up the “Hammer” name and what privilege that gave her. All in all, both Armie and Liz were both to blame. I was just the last drop of water that broke the camels back.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"> “If you must know, we’re separating.” I couldn’t help but look back and forth between the two as if were a tennis match. “The divorce will be finalized soon. Well, hopefully, soon...” sounding miffed as he gestured to the tv.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“So, you file for divorce, fly half way across the country leaving behind your still wife and children to come here. Now you show up at Timmy’s apartment uninvited.” Oliver squaring his shoulders, peeling himself off the kitchen island. “So, excuse me for asking once more, why are you here?” Silence falling between the two and all I could think of in that moment was, </span> <em><span class="s3">wow Oliver is shorter than Armie.</span> <span class="s3">Why does this matter?</span></em></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Why are you so angry Oliver?” Armie must’ve found his wit back. He must’ve gotten tired of being cornered and found a kink in Oliver’s armor that he was willing to exploit to the fullest. “I’m just here to make sure everything is okay.” He continued. Amused with himself. Pauline, Oliver, and I not so much, it was evident he was grasping at straws.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m pissed off because you’re here when you shouldn’t be. Because you’re here to dangle hope in Timmy’s face to only disappoint him again. For Christ sakes mate, you’re a selfish one!” Looking to Oliver who was now holding my gaze. What wit Armie found, just moments ago had been ripped from his grasp. “You fucked up time and time again and what’s worse is a part of me thinks Timmy will fall for it.” Pointing to me, the gesture felt so accusatory which made me recoil as if my skin was burned. I couldn’t fathom the hurt I was putting Oliver through, with all of my ups and downs about commitment. And now the reason for my commitment issues was here in my living room with Oliver here to be present for it all.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I strung along every man that came after Armie. </span> <span class="s3"><em>He’s too short, break up. He doesn’t talk enough, break up. He talks too much, break up. Let’s go away for the weekend, breakup. Do you want to meet my friends? Break up. You should meet my parents, break up? What are we doing? Breakup. What’s your favorite color? Breakup</em>.</span> <em>Here‘s a key to my place, break up.</em></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Any and all excuses would set me off, because I did what I always had done. Which was to  I compare them all to Armie, then realize these were all the things I wanted to do with Armie. That I discussed with him, all these things we had promised one another before he decided to leave me. In my eyes there was no one else I wanted to do these things with, to know these things about me, no one who could compare to him. Not until Oliver showed up.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">But here Oliver was, patient as ever. Willing to take what I was willing to give. Which was not much at first but became more and more with time. He never made me feel rushed like all the other guys before him. He was just there whenever I needed someone to confide in. A shoulder I needed to cry on. His hands always held me when I needed grounding. Oliver had somehow managed to find his way in while others could barely scratch the surface. Most importantly Oliver treated me like I was his first choice.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">To Armie, it was all face value, it was a “ brotherly” love. An appreciation for two mutual friends. But as soon as the cameras were down, the hotel room door shut, that was when he decided to show interest. It was all ridiculous, he’s a married man, what else could I have expected from him? In due time, the realization that I would remain the mistress was becoming more evident. That I was nothing but a dirty secret.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oliver made me feel quite different.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“This is why I’m here, so, the two of us could talk. Timmy and I, that is.” Armie gesturing to the two of us. His eyes finally meeting mine, but the look in them was full of uncertainty. Fear? He attempted to look hopeful but his facade breaking by the minute. It must have crossed his mind that there would be a chance I would give him nothing.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oliver deserves to know Armie.”Making him see that this discussion wasn’t just him and I anymore. Oliver knew of our past and because of it, it was the reason why I had issues with commitment. Knowing how much I had put him through, I owed Oliver that much.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Pauline give us a minute.” Placing a firm grip on one of her shoulders, we gave each other a knowing look. She got up from her seat, leering at both of them before nodding off. She disappeared from view into the hallway. The guest bedroom door clicking shut behind her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I didn’t know what I had seen in his eyes. I could only imagine the mention of the divorce brought all that hurt back to the forefront. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"><br/>
 Everyone we knew had come up to me with their fake concerns. Wanting to know gossip. <em>What gossip, he hadn’t shared anything with me. Even after they had decided to file for divorce.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em> <strong> <span class="s4">“How is Armie dealing with all of this?” </span> </strong> </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em> <strong> <span class="s4">“Do you know anything about the divorce?” </span> </strong> </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em> <strong><span class="s4">“Timmy you should reach out to him, he could really use a friend right now.”</span> </strong> </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"> Barrage after barrage. It was all so tiring.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"><br/>
No one knew of the affair during or after filming. No one knew the amount of times we hooked up while we were filming Call Me by Your Name, while we were promoting it, even after the film had released.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">The amount of calls I had to sit in on, off to the side of the bed, trying to not make a sound or move into the frame laying beside him, ass naked and just ridden hard. </span>His cum still warm and leaking out of my ass onto the bedsheets as he’d FaceTime with Liz and the kids. It was easy to feel like a home wrecker in those moments.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Every time he’d tell her “I love you too.” It always felt like someone had taken my heart from my chest and thrown it out. Every time I had convinced myself to get out of bed and say <em>this is the last time</em>, he’d rush to end the call, whisper whatever he needed to keep me there and shut off his phone for however long.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"><br/>
But things came to an abrupt stop on one of these so called “boys trips” after he had gotten off the phone with Liz. We had just had a great dinner, a couple of drinks, all in all a successful evening when all of a sudden he blurted out “You know how hard it is being away from you?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">Till this day, I remember that look on his face. It was as if he had sobered up in seconds and he was about to tell me what I had been waiting to hear for years. Instead it was far from that </span>”I was with Liz when I got back from our last trip...” pointing to the two of us. “It had been months since the last she and I had been together. She had been bugging me, and all I wanted was to be left alone. So, I did the only thing I could to shut her up. I fucked her.” <em>I didn’t know what was worse, hearing I love you from the person you care about saying it to someone else or hearing THIS.</em> “But I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you every second.” <em>Actually, THIS, is worse!</em> “I couldn’t stand looking at her face so I bent her over and I kept thinking it was you.” I knew that a part of him thought that his admission would make me feel better. But it hadn’t, in fact it destroyed me. My heart was broken. </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I knew he was married and that at the end of our trips he would go back to her, but this was the first time he had ever mentioned being intimate with her. And the jealousy I felt in that moment was indescribable.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The thought of him with her drove me insane and him bringing it up to me made my blood boil. I once loved Liz for reasons I can’t remember. But this made me hate her. I knew Armie had chosen her. And in some ways, I thought to myself if he chose this woman, to bind himself to her that she would be a reflection of him. Everything good.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em> <span class="s2">What does that say about me? That he would choose her and not me. I guess I’m not a good person. Good enough ... is more like it.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I had grown to resent her. To the point where I avoided her at all cost. And when I was forced to be around them, I had to slap on a fake smile and bear it. My attempts at keeping things neutral, was failing miserably. </span><span class="s2">I knew she knew that I had begun pulling away from them both. Because as I pulled away, she became unbelievably fake. </span> <em> <span class="s3">She could get sick for all care. Never mind, that was too harsh. </span></em><span class="s2">I no longer answered her texts, I no longer responded to his. I didn’t care <em>at least I convinced myself I didn’t.</em></span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I was going on dates, being seen publicly with others. Not making an effort to be in contact with either one of them. Giving the impression I had moved on. That it was time for them to do the same.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I had blocked her number and made several attempts to do the same to Armie, but in the end I couldn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">We had run into each other a couple of times. Keeping things quick. She would go in with one of those fake Hollywood air kisses, her smile never meeting her eyes. It was also when I noticed a distant Armie. He didn’t look well. He looked detached. The moment I pulled back was the moment Armie did too. Everything came to a stop and I was left to live with the decision I had made. I drew the line in the sand.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <strong>. . . . .</strong>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“I miss you.” Armie broke the silence that had fallen upon the room. “I’m getting a divorce and I’m leaving my wife because I don’t love her. Because I</span> <span class="s2">...” Armie stopping, taking his eyes off mine and looking to Oliver who now standing in the living room with his fists balled ready to strike Armie if he dared finish his sentence. “I made a huge mistake.” Armie admitted. “I know I’m late but I needed you to know.” He said gently as he slipped his hands into his back pockets, his gaze down cast. Defeated.</span></p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">My mind racing. </span> <em> <span class="s3">He loves you?</span> </em> <span class="s2"> “Why now?” Was all I could ask. </span></p><p class="p3">“Because I couldn’t let all of this happen without you knowing.” Still not looking up. Instead drawing circles with his feet.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I know I must’ve made several attempts to try and say something. I know also that I had come up short every time my mouth would open.</span>
</p><p class="p3">And in the end, angry, sad, frustrated all I could muster up was a shakey “You’re unbelievable.” It sounded more powerful in my head. I tried to lace it with as much malice and venom as possible. But as I turned and retreated into the hallway into my bedroom, all I could think of was how weak I sounded.</p><p class="p3">Slamming my bedroom door behind me I didn’t care of it was overtly dramatic. Locking it behind me, I stood in the middle of my bedroom and fell to my knees. Every emotion boiling up to the surface. My eyes stained with tears. My body shaking as I fought to keep my breathing even. Placing a tear stained cheek on the hard wood floor, I let every tear out as I watched day turn turn into night from my bedroom window.</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p5">
  <strong> <span class="s5">. . . . .</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I was time to peel myself off the floor. My knees were aching, my back stiff, but it was my rumbling stomach that had me getting to my feet. I watched as the last of the days sun disappear behind some building. The city lights glowing in the night sky. Looking out to the skyline from my bedroom window it all looked the same, but everything felt so different at the same time.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Everything Armie had said to everything that was going on down below. Out there, there was something monstrous lurking the streets of New York City. All the while, there was a disaster lurking just outside my bedroom door. And all I could think about was where I stood with Armie and Oliver. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">Talk about priorities.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Making my way over to my window I looked down to a packed sidewalk. Those that were brave enough to be out were rushing to get from point A to point B. The streets were bumper to bumper traffic, the honking never easing up. Throughout the night I had watched plumes of smoke lifting into the night sky, weaving in and out of buildings. Flames crawling up the sides of buildings, listening to gun shots off in the distance. There had been an emergency alert warning for residence of Manhattan to stay in doors and to lock your doors. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s3"> <em>I’m behind locked doors that’s for sure.</em> Having seen enough; overwhelmed by it all I forcefully pulled myself away from the windows and walked to my bedroom door. Trying to ignore the outside world,</span>
  <span class="s2"> I made all attempts to listen out for any conversations being had in the living room.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">As I opened my door, it was pitch black. And all I was met with, was silence. Walking into the dark hallway, I walked past Pauline’sbedroom. There was a faint light on and I could barely make out her pacing back and forth. She was frantically speaking in French. Only getting half the conversation, she was freaking out with what was happening in the city. Trying to get ahold of as many people as possible to make sure everyone was okay. Our mom, being one of those she couldn’t get ahold of. <em>I’m going to have to speak to her to let her know everything is fine.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I made my way into a dark living room, peering into the kitchen and found the lights were off. </span> <em><span class="s3">Did they leave?!</span></em> <span class="s2"> I couldn’t help but think they had left and were out there on the streets. I looked over my shoulder to see if any of the other rooms were occupied and found not a single sound or light on. Panic was beginning to sink in. I turned back to my bedroom to look for my phone. But a sudden draft caught the back of my neck. The air caused me to wrap up myself in my arms. Turning to face the living room I found the balcony sliding door was slightly ajar.</span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I approached the door and found what I had been looking for.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Can you believe what’s happening?” Armie sounded so far away. No answer from Oliver. All I could hear was clicking on a phone screen and finally “There’s an incident in the East Village. Another attack. They’re advising residents to stay in doors. They’re going to lock down the city soon I’m sure.” Clicking his screen off. The sound of his phone hitting the patio table sounded like a gunshot that made me jump.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Armie’s scuff was loud. “Well, it looks like I won’t be heading home anytime soon.” Oliver’s “laugh” was not what I would have called amused. It was more like a huff and an awkward chuckle. It was definitely sarcastic and I couldn’t help but smile. “Timmy won’t let either one of us leave you know that right? I could hear the smile in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s3">Silence.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I need you to know, what you did to him is unforgivable.” Oliver’s voice was harsh and raspy. I knew it well, it was when he smoked, chain smoking when he was stressed. The jingle of ice in his cup and the smell of smoke was evident. “You broke him, Armie. And you made it nearly impossible for anyone to measure up.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Not as nearly impossible as you think.” Armie sounded defeated, referring to how close I allowed Oliver to get. “I know I fucked him up. But I want to make it right. And if he’ll let me, I don’t care if you’re standing in the way.” Armie’s voice was soft not at all threatening, just a matter of fact. “And what if I told you I won’t let you.” Olivers cup was empty.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“We’ll let Timmy decide....” I hated having my back to the wall because the moment I would peak my head out one of them would have seen me. “Then you would surely be the one.” I was hurt at the implication that I would just throw Oliver away so easily. None of this was going to be easy. “You love Timmy?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I waited long enough to think Oliver was never going to answer and I could feel my heart break a little. Not hearing him admit his feelings made me suddenly aware I needed to hear it. “You don’t go through all the hurt with someone and not love them. Which is why I hate you for hurting someone that didn’t deserve what you put him through.” My cheeks blushing which traveled down my neck to my chest. Oliver was an expert at guilt tripping, whether he knew it or not. “I’m not going to make this easy for you Armie.” The two of them fell silent and the only sound that could be heard were the sirens off in the distance.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oliver, thank you for making him happy when I ...” His voice cracking, his voice scratchy, several sniffles, and ice rattling in his cup.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You want another?” Armie clearing his throat. Pouring another drink for the both of them. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oliver sighing. Daring to look out, Armie was sitting in a lounge chair. Wiping away at his eyes while Oliver was sitting across from him taking a sip of his drink. Looking out to the city, the plumes of smoke off in the distance. The lights from the overhead light, lit Oliver’s face beautifully, but looking a little bit harder it was clear Oliver had puffy eyes and tears streaming down his face.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Day 3 • Nocturnal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I was wrong Timmy and now I feel like I’m too late.” I stood there and suddenly I felt the urge to go up to him and kiss him but I fought it. The hardest thing I had ever done. “Timmy, please don’t tell me I’m late?” His voice trembling with fear.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s2">Armie and Oliver were out on the balcony for what seemed like hours. All I remember was having made my way back to my bedroom after stumbling upon both of them during their conversation. I had fallen asleep quickly as I buried myself underneath my blankets, the last image in my head was Armie crying and the look of pity on Oliver‘s face. It wasn’t long before I was woken up by passing sirens and to an empty bed. Oliver’s side remained untouched. </span> <span class="s3">Did I half heartedly hope that Armie would be there? I would be lying if it hadn’t crossed my mind. G</span><span class="s2">ripping my pillow a little tighter I thought of Oliver ... then Armie. </span> <span class="s3">Let’s face it, him being under the same roof as me had my mind fucked</span> <span class="s2">. I laid there looking out to the Hudson trying to make out Union City off in the distance. Not realizing that I had been listening to the sound of sirens and police vehicles going down my street for the past ten or so minutes. It became so frequent it all became background noise. I continued to admire the view I had, relishing it and praising myself for purchasing it because of the view. I never tired of looking out onto Chelsea and the Hudson River. Laying there shrouded in darkness I watched as the city fall into chaos. </span> <span class="s3">When would the rioting begin? The looting? The killing of the infected? The innocent? </span> <span class="s2">My eyes set on a plume of smoke rising from what looked like the High Line. Watching a helicopter fly overhead in a pattern repeatedly. The sirens that had passed by my building had reached their destination. Their ear splitting blare was replaced with distant gun shots and the blades from the helicopter that was broadcasting the incident. </span> <em> <span class="s3">Well that didn’t take long. </span> <span class="s2">New York was becoming a war zone.</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I got out of bed and made my way over to the window. Looking down to the street at those brave enough to venture out, they seemed to walk at a faster pace than normal. From where I was standing it looked as though they kept a watchful eye of their surroundings.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Turning my back to the night sky, standing at the foot of the bed, I retrieved my phone from under the covers. To no surprise I found notification after notification, text after text, making sure that I was fine. A missed call from Luca. Several missed calls from my mom and dad. All of it going unanswered. I’m sure Pauline would have already reached out since the calls had stopped. My mother would have kept calling till I answered and most likely would have shown up at my doorstep by now. The thought of my mother on the streets during a time like this to check up on me sent chills down my back. I regretted immediately for never responding.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Throwing my phone back onto the bed, I tired of reading the worried text. Responding to a few, Luca being one of them, all the others would have to wait. My head falling back my eyes to the ceiling, breathing in and out, my hands shaking and heart beating so fast. I tried to clear my mind as best I could and I was failing miserably.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Maybe a drink would help put me backs to sleep. I was almost out of my bedroom when the sudden a large explosion rattled my windows. Turning to face the windows, the rattling was so strong I had thought they would shatter under pressure. The explosion came from the High Line and the flames lit up the sky and the buildings around it. I watched in shock as the smoke stretched into the night sky, and blanketing everything in sight. Distant screams could be heard mixed with the sound of gunfire. Suddenly there was another explosion closer to the Vessel. My windows rattling stronger and longer. Stepping away from the glasses I was in complete awe at the hue of orange that had colored my room.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It was then I heard hurried footsteps coming towards my door.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy!” Oliver, screamed on the other side of the door, Oliver throwing the door wide open not waiting for my response. He swung the door open and ran past me looking out to the explosion several blocks away. Turning around to face me, the crying I had secretly witnessed from earlier left no traces. But his eyes were red, either from the lack of sleep, weed, or from the liquor or the mixture of the three. He held my gaze and asked in worriedly “Are you okay?” His strong hands gripping my arms tight. Looking me up and down, his eyes softening, as he realized nothing was wrong. His fingers danced on my shoulders for a mere second before other footsteps were making their way into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tim, are you okay?” Armie asked, standing in the door way not coming in. The look of panic written all over his face. He hesitated for a second before he stepped into my bedroom. Watching him, I realized this was the first time Armie had been in my new apartment. That he was entering the most intimate space of the entire house. He walked past Oliver and I and looked out the window staring out into the wall of smoke and the flames climbing the nearby buildings. Pauline trailing close behind, she stood by my bedroom door with her arms crossed.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You okay?” Armie turning to me, his arms crossed and his eyes large his mouth slightly cracked. Taking a large step forward, into the space that I was sharing currently with Oliver. Oliver unmoving, the look on his face unreadable. Armie stood there far closer than I thought was acceptable.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Me okay.” I whispered and I could help but smile as he did. In that split second I saw happiness and in that smile I felt my heart swell the first time in a very long time. I watched as his hand came up as if he were about to grip onto my arm but it quickly fell to his side and he quickly stuffed them into his pockets. Glancing between Armie and Oliver neither one of them attempted to move. In fact they watched each other and my reaction intently. Under their watchful gaze I couldn’t help but feel like as though I was being ... tested.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Stepping away from Oliver’s grip, and shuffling past Armie, I went to Pauline and dropped my chin on her shoulder. My arms to my side, as I felt her slender arms wrap around my back. “Thank you for letting mom know I was fine.” Whispering into her ear.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Are you though?” I didn’t have to look at her to know that she had a death stare pointed at both Armie and Oliver. Standing, I smiled at her as she shook her headstepping aside. My breathing became heavy and my head was pounding and all I could think of in that moment was a drink and cold air. I walked past her into the living room to hear her footsteps disappear into her room. “Please don’t stay up too late thinking about THAT.” She nodded in their direction or the direction of what what going on outside. Either way I couldn’t tell.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I continued to walk past the living room out to the balcony and found that it was still cracked open. Outside there was a bottle of whiskey that was nearly empty and a plate that was never intended for cigarettes but quickly became one. I basked in the cold air as it caressed my nearly naked body. I stood frozen in place until I felt a hands dance on my shoulders down my sides to my chest and finally pulling me in. I knew this touch well. </span> <span class="s3">Oliver.</span> <span class="s2"> “I need to make sure you were okay.” He said drawing me tight against his front, my back fitting into him perfectly. His arms wrapping around me with his chin resting on my shoulder, the two of us looking out to the city, the Vessel glowing a bright orange and yellow as the flames danced just below.” What the fuck is going on Oliver?” I couldn’t comprehend anything.</span></p><p class="p3">
  <em><span class="s2">This infection. My sanity. ARMIE AND OLIVER! </span> <span class="s3">Like, what the fuck!</span></em>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">He didn’t say anything for a very long time. Instead he gripped me a little tighter and in that moment I felt safe. “Whatever it is I’m going to make sure nothing happens to you.” His lips on my ear, the warmth of his accent making me melt into him. It wasn’t difficult to notice the effect he had on me as I rubbed my ass to his stiffening cock. </span> <em><span class="s3">It was an inappropriate moment but the body knows what it wants.</span></em></p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">I hadn’t noticed Armie standing there until I heard footsteps draw closer to the balcony. Armie with his jacket in hand, and his duffle in the other we made eye contact. A quick nod and a pained smile he made his way to the front door. <em>“</em></span> <em> <span class="s3">You can’t leave!”</span> <span class="s2"> I was screaming on the inside.</span></em></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Armie, man, don’t be stupid. I can’t have you walking the streets with all of this...” Oliver letting me go, my arms outstretched to the scene right before our eyes. “I need to go Timmy.” He was begging me. The look on his face and the way his voice sounded made me feel so much in so few words I decided right then and there I would do anything to keep him here. “I can’t have you out on the streets, please.” Begging him, if I needed to be on my knees to keep him here I would do it. I made my way to him stopping just an arms length from him, “Please, stay.” I didn’t know what to do with my hands in that moment. A part of me wanted to take him in my arms, I wanted to grab him by the back of his head and bring his lips to mine, or just simply rub my palms to his stubble. Instead under Oliver’s watchful eye, I awkwardly found them swiping through my hair or in my pockets. Looking to Oliver who was still on the balcony his hands wrapped around the railing his elbows making a ninety degree angle his bare feet crossed his toes drawing invisible patterns on the concrete. Not looking up to meet his or mines eyes he suggested “You have two choices the bed and we’ll sleep out here or the couch.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oliver never looking up.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“I can’t take the bed away from you tw...” He said just before he realized what he was saying. Pushing himself off the railing he made his way back inside putting himself in-between Oliver and I. Then it’s settled, the couch. Armie looking down at Oliver. Both expressions unreadable, </span> <span class="s3">what did these two talk about?</span> <span class="s2"> “Have a good night” Not caring one bit that he sounded like an asshole he continued to my bedroom where he left Armie and I standing in the living room. Awkward silence between the two us.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s4">  <strong>. . . . . </strong> </span>
</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Do you think you have everything you need?” I asked as I placed the comforter down on the couch. The couch was going to be his bed for the evening and we somehow managed to only find him three small pillows. Offering one of mine, he wouldn’t allow it. I tried cleaning up the mess around him but he refused. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tim, I’m fine.” He must’ve caught onto my nerves. “Really I’m good. I just want to rest my eyes and I’ll get out of your way in the morning.” I didn’t like the idea of him leaving. I didn’t like the idea of him not being where I was not.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, no, you’re not.” I answered him too quickly. “You and Pauline aren’t going anywhere.” Trying to recover from my slip I dragged my sister into my reasoning. But it was too late he caught onto my mishap and simply nodded. “Got it.” Nodding uncomfortably running my hands through my hair I shifted in front of him awkwardly. “Yeah, so, yeah, I’ll just be ... ughh. I’ll be over, um” looking from side to side never meeting his watchful gaze my fingers laced together at the back of my head. “Well, if you didn’t need anything else.” I was turning to face my bedroom glad to be away from his steely gaze. “The bathroom is down the hall across from Pauline’s room. Get yourself anything from the fridge.” Walking away from him, I could feel his eyes on my back.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“Tim could we talk?” Stopping in my tracks and shifting on the balls of my feet. My hands visibly balling into a fists. </span> <span class="s3">I thought I was free.</span> <span class="s2">“I’m tired Armie, it’s been a long day.”</span> <span class="s3">Such an understatment. </span> <span class="s2">I sounded weak so I had that working for me but I knew he wasn’t going to ease up on me. Turning to him, I found his beautiful blue eyes searching my face. “I miss you Timmy.”</span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">My heart was racing, my palms began to sweat, and again I was speechless. I just stood there like an idiot with my knuckles rested under my chin. Attempting to make eye contact with him through the messy hair that had fallen into my face. I was relieved that I had a shield, a shield that would take the brunt of the attack coming from his unmoving leer.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It was the same intense look he gave me the night in Bergamo as he kissed me real against a brick wall and he didn’t care that it was documented. Where I told him just as they said cut “Fuck me tonight.” His dick was hard against my thigh as we clung onto one another just long enough to cop a feel.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What did you two talk about?” Finally the question that had been plaguing my mind, what kept me up, the question I couldn’t help but think of as I watched the High Line go up in flames. He didn’t respond, annoyed now, I was going to make it worth his while “You wanted to talk Armie, so let’s talk. What did you two talk about?” My voice getting louder than necessary.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I was wrong Timmy and now I feel like I’m too late.” I stood there and suddenly I felt the urge to go up to him and kiss him but I fought it. The hardest thing I had ever done. “Timmy, please don’t tell me I’m late?” His voice trembling with fear.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Day 3 • Aurora</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>nearby trees and brush in flames, spreading fast onto nearby buildings, large splatters of blood painted the walkway that Oliver and I walked hours ago. Fire fighters attempting to put out the flames as a group of infected individuals lumbered along the pathway one of them unfazed with flames engulfed on his back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">I couldn’t find adequate words to answer him and when I thought I had, I couldn’t work up the nerve. I couldn’t look him in the eyes without it all flooding back to me. The entirety of filming, realizing very early on how much I mirrored Elio thoughts towards Oliver but in my case towards Armie. For so long, I thought I was unworthy of his attention, I craved his praise and soon that crave became a yearning, a codependency. It all came head first during the press tour, we weren’t denying anything at that point, at least not to one another. It was becoming a struggle, wanting to express how we felt for one another but couldn’t. We stole weekends together using the film as an excuse to spend time with another. Liz’s frustration should have made me feel guilty but I found humor in it. I was fucking around with a married man and I should have known that it wasn’t going to work out in my favor. And it hadn’t crossed my mind until we were nearing award season. It wasn’t long before Armie began to change, when he expressed that the two of us had been “extremely careless” trying explain to me all those times we had slipped, our too long hugs, my longing looks, touching his stubble on Ellen and the mention of our “chemistry” made him nervous, the admiration in his eyes whenever he was caught looking to long. Our relationship if you could even call stolen moments a relationship came to an abrupt end. He began to pull away in every manner of speaking. The time we could get, dwindled and were left for public events where neither one of us could show anything but mutual respect. The sex fell apart. Whenever I got the chance to touch him it was like I had burned him. His kisses were chaste and when he touched me willingly it was short and friendly at best. When we were apart what long texts we shared became one words responses or ignored all together. FaceTime became a thing of the past. The film couldn’t be used as an excuse anymore to take trips together, so those stopped immediately. It was the cruelest thing he could have ever done, by taking away all choice and not allowing to fight for whatever it was that we were becoming.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">So our lives moved on or at least his did. Mine did whatever it needed to survive. Whatever encounters we had were short and sweet and riddled with pain. Whenever a post from Liz would pop up referring to Armie, I would scroll by not even wanting to like it. And whenever he would post about her, I would ... <em>let’s just say I replaced my phone one too many times.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">So I tried my best, to push everything away and when I couldn’t shove it to the side, I buried them as best I could. And whenever something would catch me off guard I would allow myself to feel it for a little while but not too long. I continued to nurse a broken heart, trying to forget him and move on. Fucking around with whoever I pleased. Thinking on some level, that if I was seen with someone, photographed with them that it would eventually catch Armie’s attention and make him feel a fraction of the pain that I felt. I had embraced every door that opened in front of me, putting myself out there more. Forcing him to see me which I hoped made him miss me. All of it going unnoticed because I never ever heard from him.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">It continued like this for some time. Well into the next piece I was working on. It was when I was promoting Beautiful Boy when Oliver came into my life. Oliver who didn’t want to push himself on me from the start. Who was willing to take things slow and to make sure </span><span class="s3"><em>courting was done correctly</em> <em>his words not mine.</em></span> <span class="s2"> So I let the mending begin and the thought of Armie was becoming less and the pain that came along with that was beginning to dull. Entertaining the notion of moving on with Oliver was becoming very real.</span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Yet here, after so many years being apart and Armie standing in front of me, every moment, the good and the bad was flooding back and it was nowhere near dull as I thought it was.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s4">  <strong>. . . . .</strong> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Do you honestly think that everything you’ve done gives you the right to be here?” Every feeling I had bottled up for the past couple years returning to the surface. “You’re concerned about being late, late isn’t an issue Armie. Fuck you for thinking I was waiting for after what you did.You chose, you chose her and not me. You took everything Armie!” I wasn’t going to deny anything anymore. He had denied me so much already.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I know. But if you...” I stopped him from continuing. “Why won’t you let me leave then?” Hating my eyes for betraying me. My tear stained cheeks giving away everything I was feeling. “Why did you have me stay then?” His eyes were downcast to his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You can’t leave!” Throwing my arms out to the city that was falling to ruins. “But that’s beyond the point!” Shouting when I didn’t intend to. Frustrated even further for him thinking of such an idiotic thing. I stayed silent for a second expecting my bedroom door to open but when Oliver didn’t appear in the hallway I continued. “You shouldn’t have come here. You chose Liz for whatever reason you made that very clear.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy I-I made a mistake. People can make mistakes.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It was as if he was intentionally pushing every button to piss me off. “Armie I don’t understand how you aren’t recognized for you’re acting because it didn’t look like a mistake.” I was being an asshole on purpose.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Now you’re just being cruel.” He said getting annoyed with me. “What’s cruel is you taking matters into your own hands and ending everything without even thinking what it could do to me. Giving me nothing to go off of. You fucked me literally and metaphorically. So don’t tell me I’m being cruel when you so easily walked out on us.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">We had stood there in silence long enough to not notice Oliver had appeared from the hallway. Standing there with his hands in his pajama pockets and his ratty Lee Strasberg school shirt, relieved that he had come out to stop our bickering that he had caught every moment of I’m sure.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“Just letting you know, Pauline was right, there’s more pressing matters to contend with.” With remote in hand he turned on the television and maneuvered through the news apps. We were brought to the incident that was occurring at the High Line. It was a massacre, nearby trees and brush in flames, spreading fast onto nearby buildings, large splatters of blood painted the walkway that Oliver and I walked hours ago. Fire fighters attempting to put out the flames as a group of infected individuals lumbered along the pathway one of them unfazed with flames engulfed on his back. We watched as a woman at the front of the pact throw herself on top of an officer.She thrashed on top of him and all we could see from the view of the helicopter was the mans arms attempting to pull her off but suddenly he stopped struggling and his arms fell outward onto the metal walkway. The woman broadcasting her shocked and frantic voice booming through the speakers. “She’s bitting him! She’s fucking bitting him! Oh my god!” Her voice being cut off because of her unscripted improvisation. Gun fire erupting all around the living room. </span> <em> <span class="s3">Fuck these speakers!</span> </em> <span class="s2"> The officer lying down in a pool of blood the inside of his neck full exposed before they could blur it out. The woman now lying on top of the man lifeless. The others among the pact gunned down just before returning back to the news room. A new reporter was in the spot of the woman and he tried to remain as unfazed by what he had seen but it was obvious he was staggered.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“We’re getting reports all throughout the city. Attacks in the East Village, Downtown, Wall Street, and Central Park.” Showing uploaded videos on the screen of each attack. “Police are urging New York residence to seek shelter and lock their doors. To AVOID at all cost and DO NOT engage with any of these individuals. They are extremely dangerous and the infection spreads through contact.” Oliver flipped through the news once more and we were brought to what looked like a video from the subway, an attack on a train with several individuals harmed in the process. Those attacked were rushed to the emergency room for lacerations and severe blood loss. The suspect was gunned down by a fellow passenger who was carrying a concealed weapon. The same warning. Lock your doors. Avoid contact.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The three of us had somehow found ourselves sitting and in complete awe. Nothing was said, what could you say. We just continued to watch as the infection unfold before our eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“This is insane.” I said getting up pacing between Armie and Oliver. Bumbling in French underneath my breath. “What’re we going to do?” Over and over again in French. Curse after curse after curse.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“We’re fine.” Oliver said as he placed the remote down on the nearby table. The sound of it clanking onto the table louder than necessary. Muting the sound helped a little so I didn’t have to listen to what was being said. The subtitles drawing my attack now. Certain words imbedding themselves into my brain. </span> <span class="s3">Relentless. Animal. Violent. Lifeless...</span> <span class="s2"> “As long as we stay put.”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I know you don’t believe that. How can you believe that?” Pointing to the television. “People are fucking eating each out there!” Taking a seat on the arm rest of a nearby chair.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m well aware. It’s not everyday we get an emergency broadcast showing someone’s neck completely exposed on the evening news.” Oliver looking up at me, his expression annoyed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Suddenly just behind Oliver, Pauline had walked out from the shadows.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey” Her soothing presence bringing me at ease just at the sight of her. “So mom can’t get ahold of dad.” Her hands wrapped around her phone tight. “She’s freaking out. She said she woke up because a car had crashed into the side of her building to avoid hitting someone.” She stood beside Oliver who had wrapped an arm around her in a comforting gesture. “I warned her to lock the doors and to not open them unless it was dad or any of us.” She sounded so troubled. “Timmy I have to go get her or at least be with her, I can’t leave her alone.” Pauline was set on her decision.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You saw what we all saw just now. You can’t just walk out onto the streets and go down into the subway. It’s not safe outside.” Armie’s booming voice behind me. “As long as your mom is locked up and the building is secure she should be fine until morning. I can see if I can get to her during the day, it’s stupid to go out now.” Even though I was frustrated with him for our earlier confrontation, he was right. Grabbing my phone and walking towards the balcony “Let me call her so I know she’s okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I closed the sliding glass door as I hit the call button. It didn’t take my mom too long to answer. Two rings. “Maman!” So happy she had picked up trying to be as calm as possible.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy!” She was so panicked and I regretted even more for not responding to her calls earlier. “Mom listen. I’m okay, sorry for not calling you back.” Apologizing for nonsense. Trying to avoid talking about what I had just witnessed. “Listen mom, are you safe?” She listed off what she had done. She mentioned that the building was sound and that the vehicle didn’t cause too much damage outside. The building was under a curfew implemented by the apartment board to make sure that the infection was kept out.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“Mom just lock the doors and don’t open it for anyone until I get to you in the morning.” My mother’s voice was soothing to me, it was exactly what I needed to hear at this moment. “Armie’s there isn’t he?” She asked, she always liked Armie. Mom and Dad had reminded him whenever they got the chance </span> <span class="s3">You’re family!</span> <span class="s2"> “Yes, he’s here mom. Mom. I got to go, just listen to me, don’t leave the apartment until I get there in the morning.” When she didn’t respond I called out to her one more time. “Mom! Don’t open the door unless it’s me or dad, do you understand?” I hated having to raise my voice to her but I needed her to understand that she didn’t need to be out right now.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, Tim, just be safe. Please.” Her voice was so small. She sounded so scared and I was nearly out the door in that very moment to go get her. But I knew I needed to wait till sun up.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I hung up the phone and texted her immediately. Reminding her that I loved her and that she needed to stay put.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">Turning my phone around not allowing the screen to lock, she responded with a thumbs up and heart eyes. </span> <span class="s3">This woman!</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I stood outside watching the flames at the High Line slowly dissipate. The helicopter had long gone and had moved to another part of the city to broadcast another attack. I slowly watched as the night turn into dawn. The smoke from the fires still rising up, the sun making them glow with a golden pink hue. The city was still shrouded in dark but within an hour it would be safe to head out to get my mom.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Timmy, you need some rest.” Oliver’s voice was groggy as he walked outside with two cups of coffee in his hands. “You’ve been up all night.” Handing me the mug, the warmth and smell giving me that extra boost I needed but Oliver made sure to remind me that I wasn’t to step outside in my condition. “We’ll get your mom. You need rest.” Taking a sip I was confused. “Pauline can stay I’ll go with you.” Taking a step forward and putting his elbows on the railing he looked down and was focused on the abandoned delivery truck. “No, you two will stay here ... Armie and I will go get your mother.” Looking at him dumbfounded “We talked about it and decided, you’re staying.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I was about to express my disgust “I told you, he wouldn’t like it.” Armie said amused leaning against the balcony door.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“He doesn’t really have a say in this does he.” Oliver’s eyes locking with mine but talking to Armie. Armie and Oliver laughing at me.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Day 3 • Morn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oliver I don’t want you to go.” I begged him as my bedroom door shut behind us. My back leaning against it grateful for it keeping me up otherwise I would be a broken mess on the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your father is abroad and is not answering any of your mothers messages. Your mother is alone and I’m certain that is not what you and Pauline want.” Finally turning to face me with an icy expression. “I in good conscious and able cannot sit back and do nothing.” Making his way towards me catching his expression warming his eyes softening just before looking down in defeat. “Let me do this.” Whispering gently, stopping in front of me his mint toothpaste breathe on my face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shaking my head, “Let me go and get her plea-“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I refuse to have you out there if I can help it. Armie and I both have decided.” That last part came out hesitant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My heart tightening at his confession. The thought of the both of them discussing my well being. The pink in my cheeks I’m sure he noticed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You and Pauline will stay here while Armie and I go get your mom. That’s that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mind was made up and if there was one thing I knew there was no breaking it when it was decided.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still leaning against the door, staring at the hairs on his knuckles the hairs on the tops of his toes, the thought of Armie and Oliver discussing my well being, the two of them out there to get my mom, one or the other or both of them hurt while they went out to do something I should be doing, it was a crashing down on me.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll be quick, I promise.” Sending my struggle, coming into my space, his arms sliding under my arms, pulling me to him. Still not looking up to him afraid that if I looked into his eyes they’d begin to water. But I allowed him to pull me into his arms my forehead on his collarbone my cheek resting on his heart beat. The </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">thud thud</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> calming me. His strong arms pulling themselves tight around me. Mine crawling up his back gripping tight to the collar of his shirt. Placing a gentle kiss on my neck he skimmed his way up stopping at the earlobe. I could feel his lips on them, he allowed them to open as if he were about to say some profound words just to have them close. Pulling away from his grasp and getting on my top toes I took his face in my hands, placing my forehead against his, this time Oliver couldn’t meet my gaze. He made one more attempt to try and say what he was struggling to express but nothing. Seeing him like this, I placed a small peck on his lips. The smile on his face was enough. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">There was no need to say anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <strong>
    <span class="s3"> . . . . .</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Walking out my bedroom I knocked on Pauline’s door wanting to check up on her. Standing there I could see sun light slipping into her room underneath the door. There was silence at first then the sound of her shuffling feet. Opening the door she stepped aside to let me in. <em>The bedroom was a mess </em></span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">it was clean a day ago</span>
    <span class="s1">.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Armie and Oliver are going to go get mom.” I said as I walked over to the desk opposite the door. My back to her as I eyed the table top her dented MacBook. The current tattered book she was traveling with, the few crumpled euros that she obviously stuffed in her pocket last minute.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah ... so they already talked to me about it. They wanted my approval first.” Her admission had me turning around so quickly I thought I was going to get dizzy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You knew about this but you didn’t bother to tell me?!” My arms crossed my frustration with her written all over my face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like Armie said, you had enough on your plate. Besides there was no fighting either one of them. Both are overtly stubborn! They’re exhausting. I don’t know how you do it.” With an eyebrow raised her analyzing glare made me uncomfortable. She always had this ability to just bore into your soul and make you utter your every secret . “I don’t want either one of them out there. It’s not their responsibility. Oliver won’t even let me go with them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t. Maybe the two of them can figure out who gets whom. After all, Armie did bring it upon himself to come here and fuck things up. Armie is jealous and Oliver has always hated Armie. Why would you want to be apart of that?” She had a point.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Besides let mom be the buffer!” The both of us laughing for once. Grateful for her perfect timing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you’re scared for them but everything will be fine.” Pauline said as the two of us stood there silent. My fingers skimming along the books on the desk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Glancing up to the city, the smoke from last nights fire had dissipated and the city was still. The quiet was unsettling the siren off in the distance was a welcomed sound, not a single pedestrians on the streets, only a cab on the road. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">They’ll need to hurry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you ask to borrow this?” Looking back down at the desk spotting a very familiar book. Opening the cover to make sure it was mine only to find my initials on the first page. Lifting my copy of Lord of the Flies up in the air I waved it back and forth. Her tight smile as she came over to take the book from my hand “You know we don’t do that here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">  <strong>. . . . .</strong></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Making my way back into the hallway I found the balcony back to normal. The table had been put back and cleared of the leftover bottles. Their makeshift ash trey had been emptied. The empty bottles of liquor and beer were now in a plastic bag that was at my feet awaiting to be taken out to the garbage shoot. The living room empty. Armie’s pillows and blanket stacked on top of one another in the corner of the room. The couch untouched. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Did he sleep here? Where is he! </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">The final thought made my blood go cold. Feeling as though my stomach had dropped I couldn’t help but panic. “Armie!” I shouted out his name not caring if anyone else heard. Turning the corner and walking past an empty kitchen, my vision began to water as I imagined Armie walking out my apartment and never seeing him again. “Armie!” There was only one room left, walking into the dining room I was met with Armie looking out to the city. Sliding through the archway Armie had a huge smile from ear to ear. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">You fuck!</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m here.” The joy in his voice made me sick.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you sleep?” Trying my best somehow to divert my sudden show of urgency. Silence engulfed the room but Armie’s welcomed chuckle changed all that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I stood there admiring how the sun shown down on him. How it lit his tan skin making him glow. His dirty blonde hair shining. His blue eyes the color of the sky sparkled for the first time since he walked through my door. It was like seeing him for the first time and I knew then that I was fucked, nothing has changed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I still couldn’t believe that he was here that he had gotten on a plane to come here to see me. That he was actually standing in my home across from me only table separating us. I stood there fidgeting under his watchful eyes. Armie tucking his phone in his jeans, his hands stuffed in his back pockets.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sudden thought of him speaking to Liz made me angry. I knew I was in the wrong for hating so much resentment towards the woman. I had no right to feel what I did, in the end she was the scorned woman by our actions. But yet it didn’t change my feelings. In the end I convinced myself that he was only texting her because of the kids. That’s the lie that kept repeating in my mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As I made my way over to the back of a chair, my panic was quickly subsiding as he grabbed a mug off the table and poured me a cup of coffee. There were two other mugs and a full coffee pour over next to it. Taking a quick sip from his cup he watched me under eyelashes. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes on full display. He wasn’t going to let go of the fact that hehad heard the concern in my voice as I called out his name.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I slept fine, thank you.” I could hear the smile just before he took another sip. “You’re couch is shit though Tim.” He laughed and the sound warmed my heart.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pouring a cup for me, he extended his long arms out and placed my cup in the middle of the table. Looking down at the warm aroma lifting off the mug. I walked around the table and took it. Wrapping my hands around it, basking in its welcome warmth, bringing my nose to it inhaling the scent. What worry I had was pushed aside for a moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The kids say hi by the way, they miss you Little Timmy Tim.” Armie mocking my rapper name was like a gentle caress. Looking up at him I unknowingly gravitated towards him. I was excited and unnerved knowing I was standing too close. I should have pulled away but I was frozen in place. This was the closest the two of us had been together since we last ran into one another. I could in this moment reach out and take his face in my hands and kiss him. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Your hands are sweating and your wanting to, jus-NO!</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, Liz thinks it’s best that I head back to LA before a lockdown occurs. There aren’t as many infected incidents but they are climbing.” Moving away from me feeling his absence made my chest feel hallow. “But I can’t do that, not yet at least. Timmy...” His tone had suddenly changed. He became so serious. His tone was so pained. Talking to Harper and Ford must’ve made him realize he didn’t think things through. He seemed so torn.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Armie, you should go home.” Admitting defeat. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Defeat ... definitely something I’m used to when it comes to you.</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> Even in the end I was still not fighting for him, giving him a way out, being able to leave unscathed. Making it so easy for him. It all felt as if someone had plunged daggers into my gut as the words left my mouth. I knew he needed to be with his kids and he wanted to be here and I was selfish enough to admit that I wanted him to choose the latter. Especially now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, the kids are fine. Liz knows that if shit gets worse, to leave for the Caymans. Besides...” The feeling was something I knew I shouldn’t be feeling but it I didn’t care. This was the closest he had ever been to admitting to his feelings. It was obvious that he cared and he showed it in his own way. “I can’t leave yet.” I wanted to touch him but held back. So all I could give him was to continue to admire him from afar. His body tense his features like carved stone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">We stood what felt like a significant amount of time. My body wanting to throw itself at him. My fingers itching to run my hands through his hair. To press my lips to his and claim him. To brand him with my kisses. To give him some form of comfort. He was so far away from home away from his family his life that I felt guilty.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Timmy, I” the two of us standing at opposite ends of the island. His arms resting on the slab of marble. His chin to his chest, his eyes looking down at his fingers. The first time noticing he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. The tattoo removed, the scar barely visible. He was telling the truth. “I fucking miss you. I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” His hand hesitantly coming up to his head as if the thought of me was giving him a headache and the slightest touch would make it worse. “I can’t ... I can’t without you.” Slumping down on the counter further he looked so defeated that all I could do was go to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Pushing myself into his space his arms leaving the counter to wrap themselves around me as I leaned against the marble. </span><span class="s2">Stuck between a rock and a hard place.</span><span class="s1"> He finally looked into my eyes and I found years had marked him up. More wrinkles, the greying at his temples, his attempted smile never meeting his eyes </span><em><span class="s2">something very new</span></em><span class="s1"> the dark circles underneath them.</span><br/>
Taking him in my arms he was rigid, taken aback by my sudden touch. I snaked my hands up his back up his neck and into his hair. I could feel his muscles relax and he was beginning to melt into my touch. Like wet clay, I was molding him with every stroke. His eyes fluttering shut as I touched him. A small smile creeping across his lips. One that was real.<br/>
I knew I was crossing a line by doing this but I knew he needed this from me, that we both needed this. I had drawn a line in the sand and I had crossed it, literally demolished it and never looked back.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His forehead brushing against my own. His groin pushing me into the island I could feel his dick hardening against his jeans. His crotch pressed up against mine. His breathe on my face, the smell of him was intoxicating. He gripped my face in his big hands his touch had burned me. Watching him, his lips trembled as they were about to kiss me. His fingers in my hair, pulling at a large chunk at the back of my head. I didn’t make a move, not a sound, I didn’t encourage him, I was just there. But he stood there frozen, his eyes shut, watching him I felt his shoulders suddenly shake violently. It wasn’t long before the tears began to fall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I held on to him, his face in the space between neck and shoulder. His strong arms wrapping around me. His shoulders slumped. Thankful for the island to keep me up as I felt his weight fall on me. I relished in his warmth. The smell of him filling my nostrils. I felt guilty that I was still hard as I combed my fingers through his hair. Trying to calm him. His tears were soaking up my shirt and I didn’t care.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What I did care about was the expression that was painted on Oliver’s face as he appeared from the hallway. Frozen in place with his arms to his side, his grip on his jacket tight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Our eyes locked on one another and I knew I was fucked. This was the last straw. His nostrils flared as he made his way over to the kitchen throwing his jacket on the sofa as he walked by. Rubbing my cheek against Armie, I felt his dick twitch. “Armie.” I whispered. I was beginning to pull away from Armie when suddenly I felt Oliver’s hand cup my cheek “Good morning.” He whispered into my ear, giving me a peck. His breathing uneven. His hand leaving my cheek and coming up to pat Armie on the back. “You good mate?” Not looking at him, he was watching me. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He’s pissed for sure.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Armie had pulled off me. Missing him immediately. He made no attempts at covering his dick, I on the other hand brought both my hands to cover mine. He also didn’t bother to wipe away at his tears. Instead he stood there, his expression hardening. I didn’t like how quickly his moods could change.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Missing the little ones I assume?” Oliver asked. A little annoyed. Not wanting an answer. “Our Timmy here comforting you.” Oliver came by my side his large hand on my cheek, guiding my mouth towards his. I felt his tongue pry open my mouth, his grazing mine. Annoyance with Oliver at his callousness turned into complete awe, my eyes fluttered shut I was on the verge of cumming by the sudden image of Oliver and I kissing in front of Armie. I took a quick peek up at Oliver who was watching Armand intently. All Armie could do was stand there watching the two of us. I noticed his dick was hard. Twitching at the sight unfolding in front of him. Our kissing became more intimate and I could feel I was coating my briefs with precum. I could hear his labored breathing and I nearly shot my load. But as Oliver bit down on my lip, stopping me from ruining my jeans Armie had cleared his throat and I found his backside walking towards the hallway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go Oliver!” Armie shouted in frustration, his voice cracking a bit in the hallway. Not hiding the smile my face at a flustered Armie.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oliver coming to my side, his hand to my chin, his expression unreadable. Placing his lips against mine he was marking his territory gripping my hair right he pulled my head back, my dick twitching at the pleasure pain of it. Biting down on my bottom lip he warned me “We’re not done here.” Giving me one more peck but this time it was chaste. He made me whimper as his lips hovered over mine. His dick pressed against my own. “Don’t make me put you over my knee next time.” His frustration was evident with what he walked in on. Even though he was enjoying this what he witnessed wasn’t going to go unspoken. Rubbing our dicks together he moved one hand from my hair and placed a tight grasp at my hip while the other found its way around my Adam’s apple, my vision was starting to blur and I was getting lightheaded and I was thinking some interesting thoughts. All I wanted was his cock in me at that very moment with Armie’s in my mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oliver gently let go of my neck and let me take in a breathe as he rubbed his forehead against mine. His labored breathing heavy in my ears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t cum until we get back.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">WE.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Day 3 • Morn Tread</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Nicole’s words grew few and far between. She became less coherent in what we could hear. The sobs had ceased.<br/>And just like that, the only thing you could hear was the howling wind outside the fire escape and silence coming from the other side of the door.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, tell me why you and Liz decided to call it quits?” I couldn’t help but ask. The question had plagued my mind ever since it was first announced on both their Instagrams.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">We continued down the West Village with not one word uttered by Armie. The whole thing would have gone unnoticed if it were a normal morning in the city. A normal morning would have had these streets littered with pedestrians going to school or work, cars zooming by, every second honking, a New York taxi driver screaming from his driver side window. But this was not the normal start of the day. There was hardly anyone on the streets and what people that had ventured out, looked more frantic than usual.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What can I say, ten years is a long time-“ it sounded as if there was more to that statement but he stopped himself. My curiosity getting the best of me as I continued walking. “Ten years is a long time; so why get married?” My hand leaving my pocket and giving a dramatic flourish in the air.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanted to be married at some point, always wanted children, wanted the perfect wife ... but things change.” I was getting nowhere in this conversation. “Besides-“ he didn’t continue.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">So I continued for him “Besides, what? You thought you could simply divorce your wife and show up in New York. Stand at the door step of the man you had your affair with, that things would be different this time around?” </span> <span class="s2">It was clear, I was not letting that go anytime soon.</span> <span class="s1">“That things would change?” I couldn’t help but scoff.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“You’re really caught up on that, aren’t you?” I could hear his boots getting closer. His voice growing louder in my ears. The feel of his arm drape across my shoulders, bringing me into his side as if we had been the best of friends since birth. “You don’t have anything to worry about, right?” Gripping onto my arm tight before letting it go, his ear to ear smile not having any effect on me. Shrugging him off “No, not exactly. Remember I didn’t feel the need to hide him like you did.” </span> <em> <span class="s2">Brash AND for the jugular</span> </em> <span class="s1">. Utilizing my longer legs to get some head way, I let him fall behind.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s3">  <strong>. . . . .</strong> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walking up the stairs to Nicole’s apartment, it took me a moment to find her name on the list of apartment owners. It had been some time since I was last here. I had her number but I wasn’t getting any responses to my texts. So there was no surprise when we rang her buzzer that we got the same result. Nothing. Armie who stood by the side walk was keeping watch of people, the building, and myself. At moments I could feel his gaze bore into the back of my head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Looking over my shoulder, frustrated with it all, I shook my head, nearly shouting at him “Anything yet?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She hasn’t read any of them and all my calls are going to a full mailbox.” Hitting the buzzer one more time, I stood there peering through the glass doors into a dark hallway. Barely lit by the sun through the door I was obstructing. Cupping my hands around my eyes and the glass to keep the light from distorting my vision, I could barely make out the postal bag strewn across the marble floor.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">A knot was beginning to form in my gut. My palms began to sweat as I took a hold of the handles once more and tried to yank it open. Nothing</span> <span class="s2">.</span> <span class="s1"> Taking one last look, trying to see if there were signs of struggle or where the mail carrier could have gone, but there was nothing.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peeling myself off the door, trying to remain calm, I stood there looking at my reflection of myself as well as Armie’s. I could see the confusion all over his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oliver, what’s wrong?” He asked, genuinely concerned. “Take a look for yourself” taking a couple of steps down giving him room to look through the doors.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Armiepeered through the glass door into complete darkness with the mail currier bag and all its contents thrown all over the ground. “Well that explains why I never get my shit in the mail.” Peeling himself off the door trying to make light of the situation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Every time Timmy and I have come here, no matter what time of day it is, that hallway is lit up.” Exasperated, I walked down the stairs back down to the sidewalk. Leering up at Nicole’s building trying to find ways to get up. “The power is out and by the looks of it the power is out on the entire block.” Pointing at the businesses and the traffic lights.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There has to be another way to get inside. Do you know if this place had a garage?” I shook my head. “Well, there has to be a fire escape somewhere.” His raspy voice grew faint as he turned the corner into an ally way. After a few moments, Armie had come back around “Oliver I found a way up.” I followed him to the end of the ally way and looked up to find a fire escape that was already drawn.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As if revealing a price on a game show Armie with his oohs and ahhs at the ladder. Rolling my eyes I began to climb the ladder trying to ignore the slimy texture under my fingers ... or the fact that I could see a broken window and all it’s glass on the first level. Or the fact that there were suitcases, clothes, and all kinds of other debris and personal affects scattered everywhere.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As we took one floor at a time, weaving in and out of more broken glass and people’s personal belongings we came across several open windows with their drapes wafting in the breeze, revealing dark and what looked like abandoned apartments. “What floor is Nicole on?” Armie’s voice was strained as we ascended the stairwell trying to not make too much noise as he moved debris to clear a path. Not knowing Nicole’s state, it made sense. This was probably going to be the safest way to get down. There was no way I would, with a conscious mind take her through an apartment building that could be unsafe. “She’s on the tenth.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nearing the tenth floor, Armie and I came across the hallway that would take us to Nicole’s apartment. We peered through a darkened hallway. “It’s a straight path, at the end of the hallway. You ready?” Gripping onto the window, looking back at Armie surprised that he had a hammer in his hand. Armie handing me a small handheld shovel, I couldn’t help but laugh at the size difference between me and the weapon that would save my life. Taking in a deep breathe, I slid the window up as gently as possible. Wincing and cursing internally a couple of times as the wood screeched.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Looking to Armie, he nodded in encouragement with hammer in his band and his phone light in the other. Looking into a dark hallway, I took the first step, the floorboards underneath my feet wailing with every step.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hallway was littered with personal affects. Either people were frantic in leaving, abandoning anything that would slow them down. Passing door after door it dawned on me that the building wasn’t as abandoned as we thought it was. A couple of times I could hear footsteps shift behind a door.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My hands were sweating, my grip tight on the shovel. There was a loud crash off in the distance on another floor that made Armie and I both stop in our tracks. “Keep going.” He whispered.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taking Timmy’s spare key from my pocket, I turned the deadbolt. The sound echoing throughout the hallway. “Fuck!” Hissing under my breath. A door down the hall opening with a dark head peaking its head out. Looking down at us, “Would you keep it down ... it’s here.” The figure spoke out to us. The door clicking in place, the dead bolt echoing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taking a look back to Armie who had his back to me, I turned the door knob and pushed lightly. To my surprise the door came to an abrupt stop with the chain. And it’s metallic sound reverberated through the halls.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shit.” Whispering under my breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me call her.” The phone was vibrating on a small end accent and the apartment was partially lit by Armie’s call. “Nicole!” I called out to her through the opening, “Unlock the door!” But got nothing.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Armie’s call ended and with my ear to the door I tried to listen on any signs of Nicole. What I could hear were faint shallow breaths coming from the living room. I made a quick decision to go through the door. </span> <span class="s2">Fuck the noise.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Slamming my shoulder against the wood door, the chain rattled. One more time, and another, and another, then finally, the door swung open with a loud crash against the opposing wall. Skittering forward into the hallway, my hand colliding with picture frames that came crashing down. Looking over my shoulder, Armie still had his back to me. “You okay?” He said taking a peek at me and into a semi day lit apartment.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be fine.” I said standing up, my hand battered from the broken glass and my shoulder burning. Maybe some glass in my legs even. Wobbling forward I called out to Nicole.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello?” Cough.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nicole?” I whispered as loud as I could. Armie walking behind me and closing the door with a soft click. “Well that chain isn’t going to work now.” His sarcasm was getting tired.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trying to regain my composure I stood there for a moment to catch my breathe, found my phone that had skidded a couple of feet away when I came crashing into Nicole’s ice box of an apartment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I could hear her down the hall, finding small Nicole lying down on the sofa with what daylight that could breech her blackout blinds and with a thick blanket around her. I could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Making sure my mask was fully on and keeping my distance I tried to look over her as best I could. “Nicole, how are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oliver what are you doing here?” She said through a dry cough. Her eyes slightly hazy. Looking up to Armie, I shook my head. Armie flashing his light in Nicole’s direction I was able to get a really good look at her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes were glossy as if she had just been crying, there were bloodshot, her chest rising and falling in short spurts. Her sickly looking skin was drenched in sweat. The sinking realization of what going to happen here was, we were not prepared for. We knew at that moment there was no moving her. “Excuse me.” I left the room, leaving Armie and Nicole.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I could hear Armie speaking to her as I passed the kitchen.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Calling Timmy, it took one ring and there was a frantic Timmy on the other end.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oliver ... how’s mom?” I could hear his struggle. The anger but mainly the worry in his voice. Trying his best to not cry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Timmy, it’s not good.” As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s3">  <strong>. . . . .</strong></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not even a cold can take you out.” I felt terrible making a joke at a time like this. Just looking at her, there was no time. That there was no bringing her home to Timmy and Pauline. Did Nicole even tell Mark? She had closed her eyes as soon as Oliver had walked into the next room. It was clear she had no idea he had come with someone. So when she registered my voice I couldn’t help but smile as her eyes opened and had a shocked expression on her face. Shock turned into a genuine smile. My heart breaking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Armie, it is you!” Getting down onto my knees so she could get a good look at me, I took all of her in. Fighting the urge not to cry, all I could muster up was a nod. “Armie, I don’t know, I have a feeling this one might do me in.” She laughed through a fit of coughs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing here?” She finally asked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We were supposed to bring you home.” I fought against every emotion from spilling over.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“I don’t mean here in my apartment, I mean here in New York.” </span> <span class="s2"><em>Nothing gets past this woman even now</em>.</span> <span class="s1"> I couldn’t help but laugh. If I could just keep putting a smile on her face, I kept telling myself.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well you know.” Unable to give her the answer to the question she already knew the answer to.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nodding her head, she flashed me her knowing smile “I know, I know” Nicole said between gritted teeth. Her clammy hands brushing through my hair. The tears falling now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At that moment, Oliver reappeared from the other room. Calling me over with a head nod with his phone in his hand. Getting back up, I wiped the tears off my cheeks and met Oliver back in the kitchen. By the sink, Oliver stood in the only sunlight that managed to find its way in. His hands gripped tight around the edge of the sink. His chin to his chest. “Timmy wants to see her.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Running my hands through my hair, wanting to rip it all out. “We can’t move her!” Stating the obvious.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, clearly. Then we bring them here.” Oliver’s tone was so matter of fact.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taking a hard gulp, the image of both Timothée and Pauline walking through an unsafe building with “It’s here” was something I was not going to risk.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You will do no such thing.” Nicole sounded weak from the other room. Turning to find Nicole in a seated position “They can’t see me like this. Go back to them and tell them I’m fine.” Her voice stern and commanding.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But Nicole...” I heard Oliver over my shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“None of that! My children don’t deserve to see their mother like this.” Her voice breaking, the tears now free flowing. Through sobs “Besides there’s nothing anyone can do to help me. Just promise me to keep them safe.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nicole, I can’t...” I said. Cutting me off “Everything will be just fine.” Her hand to her mouth. “Now go, please.” She begged of us. “You’re just putting yourselves through jeopardy being here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Both Oliver and I were reluctant to leave. We stood there for what felt like hours. Torn between honoring the wishes of Timmy and that of Nicole’s. But in the end it was a Nicole who made the decision for us. She fell into a coughing fit, her eyes had looked like they had popped every blood vessel. </span> <span class="s2"><em>There was very little time left</em>.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oliver and I approached the couch, keeping our distance fighting the urge to scoop up the little woman in our arms and take her with us. But we knew that wasn’t an option.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Looking at us like a mother would she didn’t have to say a word. It was all in her eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Timmy is lucky to have you both.” She said as I rested my hand on the cushion. Wishing it was her that I could touch to reassure her in some way. I could feel her hand inch it’s way to mine but she stopped. “Go please...” her shuddering voice caused a wave of emotions to take over me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Giving Oliver and Nicole a moment I stood a ways away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for saving my son.” Looking at the both of them. I didn’t know what she meant by that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for giving him to me.” Oliver’s tone was gentle. His voice breaking. “Goodbye Nicole.” he said, his voice trembling. The tears flowing into his mask.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I was already out in the hallway when Oliver reappeared, locking the door behind him. I kept walkingtowards the fire escape, feeling like shit for leaving her behind. Her words playing over and over in my head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>Keep them safe</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I aimlessly walked over to the fire escape not realizing I was alone. Turning around I could see Oliver standing by Nicole’s door. With his back against the wall, sitting on the hardwood floor he had both arms atop his knees.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walking back over to him, I stood by his feet. Looking down at the top of his head. His handles fiddling with two envelopes addressed to Timothée and Pauline, the other to Mark. Nudging him with my foot, “Come on let’s go.” Silence.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oliver?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She doesn’t deserve to die alone.” Looking back up at me his eyes were wide and filled with tears. His destroyed spirit laced in every word. There was no arguing. A woman like Nicole, didn’t deserve this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Standing opposite him with my back to the wall, I crossed my arms and legs.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I don’t know how long we waited. It was long enough to have the afternoon light stream into the hallway, lighting up its dark green walls. It was torture, listening to Nicole’s sob not far from the door. Saying she was sorry, saying her goodbyes unaware of the audience outside her door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Looking to Oliver, I watched as the expression on Oliver’s face turn to stone. As she mentioned her family, telling Mark that she loved him. That she loved both Pauline and Timmy. It was like a punch to the gut. It was unbearable to be witness to</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nicole’s words grew few and far between. She became less coherent in what we could hear. The sobs had ceased.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just like that, the only thing you could hear was the howling wind outside the fire escape and silence coming from the other side of the door.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Day 3 • Morn Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Don’t go into the stairwell. Don’t let it out.“</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Walking through Hell’s Kitchen with it’s boarded-up store fronts, empty sidewalks, and nearly empty roads was an eerie sight. It was disturbingly quiet. With gunshots sounding off in the distance, most likely in Times Square. Oliver and I were the only ones crazy enough to be out. Both of us walking as quickly as possible. Occasionally coming across an apartment window with onlookers who couldn’t believe what they were witnessing. In a way I thought it was comical. Oliver on the other hand was completely oblivious to it all.</p><p>It was clear Oliver needed space. He kept his distance from me, and hadn’t spoken a word since we left Nicole’s, which I understood.</p><p>I watched him from behind, his head held high, his shoulders tight, his long arms barely moving at his sides, his fists balled as if he was ready to strike someone in a moments notice. The way he carries himself, I hadn’t known him for long but I could already use one word to describe him best, uptight. He already seemed to be tightly wound prior to everything at Nicole’s. He just seemed like he was stuck on autopilot. <em>Poor guy.</em></p><p><br/>Nicole was a wonderful woman. She was full of compassion and empathy. She loved her children to no end and was fiercely protective of Timothée and Pauline. <br/>She had to have known what Timmy and I had been doing in private but she treated me with the same respect as she did when I first met her. I didn’t deserve her acceptance, I didn’t deserve any of it, especially knowing how much I was hurting her son and deceiving Liz. But I relished in it was glad to take advantage of it. <em>That last bit made me feel sick to my stomach.</em></p><p> </p><p>We continued down ninth ave, we would be back at Timmy’s soon. And I was suddenly struck by what we had done, or in this case, hadn’t. We left her there...<br/>Nicole didn’t deserve to die. <em>She didn’t deserve to be left there! What the fuck is wrong with you?</em> The words were bursting to come out and I couldn’t take it any longer. <br/>“What are we going to tell Timmy?” Finding an ounce of relief as I leered into the back of his head. Annoyed that he hadn’t answered me. <br/>“We tell them everything.” Oliver’s tone was melancholic, more so now than ever. “They deserve to know.”</p><p>He was short and didn’t want to continue when I began rambling off. It was wasted on him as we continued back to Timmy’s building. I continued to take in all that was of Oliver, to keep myself off the topic of Nicole. The regret of leaving her there in her apartment was making me seriously ill. Timmy and Pauline would never forgive us.</p><p>Trying to focus on anything other than her, I began to nitpick at Oliver. Judging him unfairly because I could. Knowing that I was just being a jealous son of a bitch because his relationship with Timmy.<br/>I could already tell he was tall but was shorter than I. His shoulders were broad and tapered into a rather small waist. I couldn’t help but notice he had <em>No ass! </em>He walked with purpose and a quiet confidence. He had a substantial beard going on, which was opposite from everything I saw him in. I wish I could have the ability to ask myself <em>what does Timmy see in this guy?</em> But looking at him he was undoubtedly attractive. <br/><em>Patient, protective, loving, available, handsome who wouldn’t want this guy.<br/></em></p><p>We were just passing Marseille, a restaurant on the corner of ninth ave and west 44th that Timmy and I used to go to whenever I was in town. When suddenly Oliver came to an abrupt stop to look inside a blackened dining hall. The windows not boarded up.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Did you see something?”Looking inside myself.<br/>“Nothing. Just good food.” He said amused. The smile meeting his eyes, the softness in them as if he was recalling a memory. His mouth slightly open ready to speak when he found his words, that small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His thick beard, a light brown as the sun shown down on it. Taking a quick glance at me there was not an ounce of malice or annoyance there.<br/>His knuckle tapping on the glass as he finally found his words “I was running late to have dinner with Timmy. It was the evening I was meeting Nicole.” He was so lost in memory that I felt like I was intruding. “Yes, we tell them everything.” And just like that, the memory gone and he was closed off again. And as if he had known what I was thinking earlier “There was nothing we could have done. I wasn’t ready to put her down just as much as you weren’t ready. I would not willingly put Timothèe in harm even for his mother. His tone was rigid and his eyes were emotionless once again, he turned away from me and continued down the sidewalk.</p><p>In that split second he allowed me to see what I’m sure only a handful of people get to witness. But it was just enough for me to see why Timmy had let him in.</p><p>I was jealous, annoyed, and yet relieved at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>. . . . .</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We had made our way back to Timothée’s apartment unscathed. I was both surprised and shocked.<br/>We had arrived at the entrance to his building and quickly realized his fob system was out. Attempting a few more times, it was clear the power finally gave out.<br/>Cursing under my breath, I fumbled about with the keys before I could manage the right one. Armie behind me, I could feel his eyes burrowing holes into the back of my head. <em>For what, I hadn’t a clue.</em> But that wasn’t my concern, I wanted to get off the streets as quickly as possible.</p><p>I had finally found the right key and slowly cracked the door open. I was immediately met with the stench of what I could only imagine what a warming meat locker would smell like. <br/>The smell was so strong it came through my filtered mask, it was so pungent that I could almost taste it on my tongue. It had me dry heaving in mere seconds.<br/>It hadn’t been more than a couple of hours since Armie and I had passed through here. It was lit and Oscar, the doorman was standing by. Asking where Timothée was, advising us to stay in. He was clearly conflicted about allowing the two of us out. Armie had warned him that we wouldn’t be long and to <em>hold down the fort.</em></p><p>That was all amiss now. The small foyer was lit from the afternoon sun, the hallway that would take us to the lifts was shrouded in darkness. There was broken glass and papers littering the floor. There was blood splattered all over. <em>A struggle.</em></p><p>“You good?” I could feel Armie’s looming presence beside me, his hand clapping down on my back trying to help me clear my airways.</p><p>Nodding as I right myself, ripping off my mask for a moment to spit the taste from my mouth. “What the fuck is that smell?” Finally I couldn’t be the only one who noticed. “Fuck, that’s awful.” He said through gritted teeth. We slowly made our way to the hallway, walking over broken glass and hand streaks of blood and foot steps. “It’s much stronger here.” The smell nearly keeling me over once more as I took my phone from my pocket to turn the flash on.</p><p>“Well, you ready for that climb than?” I said illuminating the way to find the hallway painted in blood, the walls, the ceiling, the furniture. I walked over what looked like flesh, bone, and dismemberment. “Holy fuck.” Armie whispered behind me, the flash from his phone shaking. <br/>Trying to keep my calm, proud of myself for not losing my breakfast. I skimmed the floor with my light and was taken aback when I came across a foot. Just one. That was attached to a pair of slacks that were now drenched in blood, a jacket that was torn to pieces, a white shirt that was no longer white which had a gaping hole in the stomach, intestine spilling over. I couldn’t bring myself to shine the light on his face when I read the name tag on his suit jacket.<br/>We had reached the end of the hallway, where Oscar was propped up against a small table right next to the door that would take us to the stairwell. I shone the light around, avoiding his face as much as possible. Armie and I would have to walk over Oscar to get to the stairwell. <em>For fucks sake!</em> Armie behind me sharing the same feelings.</p><p>I had my hand on the handle and was about to turn it when I was suddenly pulled back. Armie hissing in my ear “Wait, don’t!”</p><p>“Why not?” I said trying to keep my voice low. <br/>Armie pointing his light at the bottom of the door where I could see he had managed to scrawl out a message in his own blood.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don’t go into the stairwell. Don’t let him out.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to those that find my rambling entertaining. I do appreciate the kudos! 🙏🏽</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Day 3 • Stairwell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I would never see Armie or Oliver or my mom again. That I got Pauline into all this mess. This was it, I made my choice. And it was time to say my goodbyes.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s taking them so long?” Complaining for the millionth time since they left. Looking down at a nearly empty side walk. Straining my eyes at every person who vaguely resembled either Armie or Oliver. Disappointed every time I got my hopes up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I continuously looked at my phone to see if either one of them had messaged me. </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>Nothing</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please, would you just sit down! You’re making me more nervous. They’ve only been gone a couple of hours.” Pauline’s annoyance was evident. The couch shifting underneath her. “Besides we have another problem to deal with.” I forced myself from the window, turning to find her staring at a black television screen. Shrugging “Seriously Pauline? The power button.” Now it was my turn to be annoyed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not an idiot, brother!” I watched her make another attempt at turning it on. Looking to everything else on the tv stand, not one light on, not a time of day, nothing. I made my way into the dining room I tried for the overhead lights and was met with nothing. </span>
  <span class="s2">Fuck</span>
  <span class="s1"> under my breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>Fuck fuck fuck</em>!</span>
  <span class="s1"> I don’t know if I screamed them to myself or out loud. I came up behind Pauline’s seat. “The electricity is out.” Stating the obvious. “We’re fucked.” I complained, ignoring her now eye rolls.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah tell me about it! We’re thirty floors up and we have four mouths to feed.” Making me worried about yet another thing! She got up from her seat and quickly disappeared in her room to only reappear moments later with her phone in hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She scrolled through Twitter and found a few tweets from some of our mutuals who were confirming they too were stuck in a power outage. “They have time, not much but they have time. I mean it’s not safe to be out in the city in a normal black out, let alone now.” Pauline nodding, I myself not realizing THAT piece of information until now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We just have to wait.” She said plopping down on the couch. “Guess I should turn this off in the mean time.” I’m sure she was speaking of her phone. Jumping slightly a moment later as it skidded across the coffee table. “You should do the same.” Looking down at mine, opting to keep it on, just in case.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pauline and I watched morning slip by, the afternoon settling in, the sun slowly trickling into the windows. It would be a couple more hours until evening. Nothing I did could keep me calm as I watched the day slip by. There was still no word from either one of them. I hadn’t moved from my spot and my anxiety was getting stronger by the minute. My thoughts racing, thinking of every possible outcome that could make them this late.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going to go find them.” Tearing myself off the leather arm chair, my voice strained from not being used.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I won’t let you.” Pauline was barely audible. “Don’t be stupid.” A page turning. </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Honestly, how could you read in a time like this?</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> “Besides if you leave and they come back, they’ll have to go back out again to find you.” She sighed as she turned another page “Please, I’m saving myself from getting yelled at by your boyfriends.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A small smile crept up on my lips at the sound of her words. And I didn’t care that she saw. She was right but I needed to bring them home. I made my way over to the foyer, slipping on a pair of boots, and grabbing my keys. Ignoring Pauline as she chased after me, screaming. “Hello! Do you not listen? Does </span>
  <span class="s2">flesh eating </span>
  <span class="s1">mean anything to you?!” I swung the door open and shut it abruptly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I stood in the hallway taken aback, frozen in place as I was met with a too dark hallway. What I could see was barely lit by the orange emergency lights that gave no form of relief. Instead cast a orange hue to the too small space.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I could hear Pauline’s footsteps through the door as she approached. Throwing it open, the gust of air made the hairs on the back of my neck stand, the goosebumps traveling up my arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Timmy-“ She was met with my back as she was immersed in darkness. The booming sound of the deadbolt locking in place, made me jump.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taking a moment to collect myself, I placed my keys in between my fingers in my right fist with my phone in my left hand to guide the way. </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Storming out without anything to protect yourself, interesting choice.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I made my way towards the end of the hall where the elevators and stairwell were. I had Pauline trailing close behind me. Her breathing heavy. “Why don’t you stay behind just in case they come back?” I whispered the suggestion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t respond right away. And the only sound was of our footsteps dragging along the carpeted floor. “I’m not letting you go out there by yourself. Besides who brings keys to defend themselves?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Trust me, the thought has crossed my mind</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"><em>!</em> “Why, what did you bring?” Glancing over my shoulder, I could barely make out the envelope opener grasped tightly in her hand. </span>
  <span class="s2">Polly, you were always the smart one.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two of us made it to the elevators while I tried my luck</span>
  <span class="s2">, </span>
  <span class="s1">which was a total waste. </span>
  <span class="s2">What did you think was going to happen?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pauline huffing behind me. Ignoring her I walked past the doors, listening to the distant screams of a woman trapped. From what I could make out she was screaming for help. Making as much noise as possible.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pauline and I were troubled with the thought of not being able to help. Feeling immense guilt, Pauline encouraged me to continue. “Keep going, there’s nothing.” She shrugged and she was right.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Reaching the door, I strained to look through the glass window and was met with black. Hesitating, </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">maybe this was a bad idea.</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> I convinced myself and I was nearly about to turn back. But the thought of Armie and Oliver out there made me grasp the door handle and I found the ounce of courage I needed to bound the next thirty flights of stairs. Just as I was about to go a soft “Timmy” stopped me. Turning to face my sister, she was pointing her light to a glass case. Inside of it was a fire hose and an axe. “I guess it’ll do.” Opening the glass case and taking the axe from off its hooks, I gave the task to Pauline to light the way.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s3">
    
    <strong>. . . . . </strong>
  </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ten. What the fuck is that smell, is that you?!” Pauline began ticking off the floors as we approached ground level. We were terrified starting off but we ended up running near the end as it was clear we were the only inhabitants in the stairwell. “Would you shut up?” I said annoyed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think it’s because of mom?” I asked Pauline. She sounded distant.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nine. Maybe. I hate to say it, but she could have slowed them down? Eight.” She suggested.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Or their held up at moms ... in an elevator.” She added.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck. Please don’t say that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Seven. You have to think off all the outcomes. Even the things we don’t want to think about. Six. Seriously, what is THAT smell!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, wait, wait.” As it suddenly got worse. It smelled as if a meat locker had been left open and it was ignored for weeks. Coming to an abrupt stop I placed my hand over my mouth to keep the bile down. Even through a mask the smell was overpowering.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pauline colliding with my back “Ew your sweaty.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you shut up!” </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Stop complaining!</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> I couldn’t help but lash out at her. Pauline shone her light along the wall and the breath was taken from me and no matter how much I hyped myself to continue I couldn’t move my feet.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pauline’s light came across a smeared hand print. “Shit.” Our feelings mutual. She skimmed her light further down and we found blood splattered on the hand rails, on the steps, everywhere.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do we keep going?” She said gently as she came to my side. “I don’t know” I genuinely had no idea. But I couldn’t stop now. “We take it slow.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walking side by side, Pauline now whispering the floors to me. My breathing was heavy, my hands were sweaty. “Three ... and two.” I looked over the railing and could see the door that would lead us to the hallway. Pauline didn’t dare shine the light, there was no need, whatever was causing the smell was down there.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So I took her phone from her and shone the light around. It didn’t take long to find the culprit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I was met with broad shoulders. Messy blonde hair that was covered in blood. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Armie?</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> My heart sank. He was facing the wall. Arms at his sides. Clothes covered in dirt and grime. Swaying slightly. “Armie?” I couldn’t help but say his name. Not knowing what I would do, say, or feel if this was him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sound of my voice made him turn around. And I was met with a face that didn’t belong to the man that I had spoken that name. To say I was relieved would have been an understatement. But I was starting to get nervous again for obvious reasons.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We need to get through that door.” I stepped off the last stair, now face to face with the cute guy that lived on the fifth floor. Someone who resembled Armie in a lot of ways. Blonde hair, blue eyes, not as tall, a little more round in the face. His voice not as appealing. Cute. If I didn’t automatically compare him to Armie.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Staring at this once cute man, I couldn’t put a name to him. It made me feel horrid for not remembering. Looking at him, I couldn’t believe the infection could do THIS. And again I found myself frozen in the least inopportune time.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His head tilted side to side, with his ashen face, a jaw that looked like it had been dislocated, his tongue in between his teeth, blood leaking from his eyes and from the corners of his mouth, his hands clawed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His body entirely in tact, while a severed hand lay at his feet. </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Explains the mess.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pauline grabbing me by my arm, she pulled me back up the stairs “How are we going to do this?” Her voice shaking. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Limping his way towards Pauline and I, it was the first time either one of us was coming this close to the infection. And it was too much to take in. </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Fight or flight? More flight!</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It happened in a split second. Pauline and I pushed into the corner of the landing, a handful of stairs separating fifth floor guy from us and him. The absent look on his face morphing, his black eyes focused, his mouth stretched open like a snakes, his teeth barred covered in blood and ready to rip into us, his filthy hands clawing at the air in our direction. The sound escaping his mouth will haunt my dreams for years to come.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I stood there frozen in place, as I shielded Pauline from him. Wondering why the axe, that I held tight in my grasp was not at the ready. </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">You just offered yourself and your sister up as a meal!</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The light from her phone cast an eerie shape which stretched out behind him, casting a foreboding shadow on the blood covered wall behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was it. I looked into the eyes of the beautiful man that reminded me of Armie. And I was suddenly stricken. I would never see Armie or Oliver or my mom again. That I got Pauline into all this mess. </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>This was it, I made my choice.And it was time to say my goodbyes.</em>
  </span>
</p>
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